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 Cornell University Library 
 D 231.F64 
 
 Century of Sir Thomas More. 
 
 3 1924 028 009 722 
 
The original of tliis book is in 
 tine Cornell University Library. 
 
 There are no known copyright restrictions in 
 the United States on the use of the text. 
 
 http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924028009722 
 
SIR THOMAS MORE. 
 
HE CENTURY OF SIR 
 THOMAS MORE. . . 
 
 BY B. O FLOWER 
 AUTHOR OF 
 
 'GERALD MASSEY," "CrVILIZATION'S INFERNO," "THE NEW 
 TIME," '■ PERSONS, PLACES AND IDEAS," ETC. 
 
 ILLUSTRATED WITH 
 NUMEROUS PORTRAITS 
 
 The Renaissance was the liberation of the reason from a dungeon, the 
 double discovery of the outer and the inner world 
 
 —John Addington Sytnonds 
 
 THE ARENA PUBLISHING 
 CO., BOSTON, MASS. 
 MDCCCXCVI 
 
 OOKNJ I i . 
 UK'IVl'l;:-riY 
 
V 
 
 Copyrighted, 1895,^ / 
 
 BY 
 
 B. O. FLOWER. 
 All Rights Reserved. 
 
 Akbsa Press. 
 
 Y'i rt3H,gvii4u 
 
THIS 
 
 BOOK IS INSCRIBED 
 
 TO MY FATHER AND MOTHER, 
 
 TO WHOSE 
 
 UNVARYING LOVE, SELF-SACRIFICE AND 
 
 INTELLIGENT DISCERNMENT 
 
 OF THE NEEDS OF A CHILD'S BRAIN DURING THE 
 
 FORMATIVE PERIOD OP LIFE, 
 
 I OWE MORE THAN I CAN ESTIMATE OF 
 
 WHATEVER I HAVE BEEN ABLE TO ACCOMPLISH 
 
 FOR GOOD. 
 
" ' There are many things in the Commonwealth of No- 
 where that I rather wish than liope to see embodied in our 
 own.' It was with these words of characteristic irony that 
 More closed the first work which embodied the dreams of 
 the New Learning. Destined as they were to fulfilment in 
 the course of ages, its schemes of social, religious and po- 
 litical reform broke in fact helplessly against the temper of 
 the time. At the moment when More was pleading the 
 cause of justice between rich and poor, social discontent 
 was being fanned by new exactions and sterner laws into 
 a fiercer flame. While he was advocating toleration and 
 Christian comprehension, Christendom stood on the verg. 
 of a religious strife which was to rend it forever in pieces." 
 —John Richard Green, M.A., in "History of the Englioh 
 People." 
 
INTRODUCTORY NOTE. 
 
 The life and times of Sir Thomas More 
 must ever hold special interest for students 
 of social progress. For, aside from the in- 
 spiration which high-born souls have de- 
 rived from " Utopia," the life of the great 
 Englishman is very full of impressive lessons, 
 and the epoch in which he lived is rich in 
 significant hints and warning for our time. 
 It was a period of transition, when civiliza- 
 tion passed with pain and a.nguisli from an 
 outgrown order to a freer state ; and the 
 battle which was waged during that century 
 is, to a great extent, being fought by us at 
 the present time. We, to-day, are in the 
 midst of a struggle much the same as that 
 which marked the century of More; the 
 same velvet-tongued sophistry is heard now 
 from scholarly special pleaders for the old 
 
 ni 
 
iv INTRODUCTORY NOTE. 
 
 order as was heard in that elder time. For 
 gold, fame and the praise of the powerful 
 the prophets of conventionalism are actively 
 endeavoring to lull to sleep the newly awak- 
 ened conscience of civilization. But the 
 struggle has gone too far ; the forces of the 
 new time are too numerous and too powerful 
 to be beaten back. A new social order is 
 inevitable. 
 
 The century of More is so replete with 
 suggestive lessons for thoughtful people of 
 our day that a brief glance at civilization in 
 the throes of the new birth will be helpful 
 to us, apart from the interest which clusters 
 around the names and the achievements of 
 one of the most wonderful epochs in the 
 history of civihzation. 
 
TABLE OF CONTENTS. 
 
 Introductory Note iii 
 
 I. Western Europe during the Century of "which "We Write 
 
 —1450-1550. 
 A period of general awakening and unprecedented prog- 
 ress—The moral, spiritual, and scientific awakening 
 north of the Alps— The golden age of art in Italy — The 
 era of discoveries and conquests which mark this period 
 in the annals of the Spanish Peninsula— The marvellous 
 effect of the revival of Greek learning on Western 
 Europe— Germany gives the world the printing press and 
 the Copernican Theory — Columbus discovers the New 
 World— Sir Thomas More delivers a prophet's message 
 on social progress— A pen picture of Erasmus 1 
 
 II. The Reformation and Some op its Leading Spirits. 
 
 The Reformation— Causes which wrought a positive change 
 in the convictions of devout men and women— A pen 
 picture of Savonarola — Martin Luther the head and front 
 of the Reformation— His early life— Visit to Rome— Re- 
 turn to his fatherland— He boldly denounces the sale of 
 indulgences to commit crime and is cited before the Car- 
 dinal Legate— Germany is electrified by his bold utter- 
 ances—Leo X. issues a bull condemning Luther which the 
 reformer promptly burns— He appears before the Diet 
 of Worms^John Calvin— His strength and weakness— 
 ZwingU, Knox, Melancthon— A word about the leaders of 
 the Protestant Ref oi-mation 18 
 
 in. A General Survey of the Italian Peninsula during the 
 Renaissance. 
 The centuries preceding the Italian Renaissance— The fall of 
 Constantinople— Venice — Floi-ence — Milan— How these 
 republics were overthrown by the fiction of birth, the 
 cunning of wealth, and the sword of force- The seculari- 
 zation of the Roman Church during this period — The 
 V 
 
Vi TABLE OF CONTENTS. 
 
 menace of a union of Church and State— Emilio Castelar 
 comments on the Church of this period — The bewildering 
 spectacle of beauty and shame, of gayety and tragedy, 
 which characterized the Italian Peninsula — The inade- 
 quacy of the educational system, of the past — The new 
 educational ideals of our time and their promise 42 
 
 IV. Some Fatal Figures op the Italian Renaissance. 
 
 The Medicean Family— Professor "Vallari's suggestive obser- 
 vations—How liberty was lost — Lorenzo de' Medici— The 
 patron of art — The ruler of Florence— The slave of his 
 own passions — The Borgian family — Machiavelli — The 
 man and his writings— Observations on the " Prince " of 
 Machiavelli— The " Utopia " of Sir Thomas More 70 
 
 V. Some Bright Lights of the Italian Renaissance. 
 
 Michael Angelo— A character sketch of the Jupiter of Art's 
 Olympus— The Influence of Savonarola's sermons and 
 Dante's poems on Angelo*s work— The austere and co- 
 lossal character of his ideals— His deeply religious char- 
 acter — A pen picture of Leonardo Da Vinci, the most 
 versatile of the great geniuses of this period— Correggio, 
 the Christian painter who was "unconsciously a heathen" 
 —His great work- Raphael Sanzio, the most illustrious 
 of painters— A child of the dawn— Comparison between 
 Angelo and Raphael— The wonderful power of the youth- 
 ful artist only equalled by his untiring industry — His 
 early death — A brief characterization of the man and his 
 work 94 
 
 VI. The Spanish Peninsula during the Century of Sir Thomas 
 
 More. 
 The awakening on the physical side of life— The greed for. 
 gold and blind and fanatical religious persecution — The 
 fall of Granada and the reestablishment of tho Inquisi- 
 tion—Appalling picture of the tragic fate of the Jews and 
 others who came under the ban— Columbus discovers 
 the New World— Cortez conquers Mexico— Magellan's 
 fleet circumnavigates the earth— The colossal figure of 
 Albuquerque and his pathetic end— General observations 
 on the Spanish Peninsula of this century 129 
 
 VII. The France op this Period. 
 
 The moral and intellectual awakening of the German People 
 —The artistic enthusiasm of Italy and something of the 
 spirit of the Spanish Peninsula permeated the France of 
 this day, though while reflecting all in a measure she 
 
TABLE OF CONTENTS. yii 
 
 failed to lead in any direction— John Calvin and Rabelais 
 the two great intellects of the France of this century— 
 A pen picture of Rabelais— Victor Hugo's characteriza- 
 tion of the great satirist 146 
 
 Vm. The England of Sir Thomas More. 
 
 England at the close of the Wars of the Roses— The union of 
 the throne and the privileged classes against the land- 
 less and moneyless masses— Green's graphic summary 
 of the social and intellectual conditions at this time- 
 Great interest taken in astrology and occult research- 
 Character of Henry VII.— England enters upon a career 
 of material and commercial greatness— The encroach- 
 ments of the crown— The Star Chamber of Henry VII.— 
 William Caxton and his great work for English Literature 
 — Difficulties under which the scholar printer labored— 
 The Influence of the New Learning in England— Henry 
 Vin.'s liberal patronage of art and letters— Tyndale's 
 Bible — More's vivid description of the misery occasioned 
 by the injustice of social conditions— The rise and fall of 
 Cardinal Wolsey — The Pharisaism and worldliness of 
 conventional religion — More's observations on this sub- 
 ject — Colet establishes St.Paul's Latin-Grammar School 
 and lays the foundation for popular and humane educa- 
 tion— Lights and shadows of this century in England. 154 
 
 IX. The Life of Sir Thomas More. 
 
 Men of imagination and genius in times of intellectual and 
 moral transition — Their power and their peril — Sir 
 Thomas More : a man who received divine ideals, and who 
 was also powerfully influenced by men of positive convic- 
 tions who held ideals opposite to those he had enunciated 
 — The difficulty prosaic historians have in appreciating 
 men of the character of More — General social conditions 
 which environed the great English philosopher— The in- 
 tellectual atmosphere of the time— Change written over 
 every doorway of research — Youth and school-life of 
 More — Colet founds St.Paul's Latin School— More's love 
 divided between the new and the old order— The youth- 
 ful philosopher contemplates becoming a monk, but 
 changes his mind and marries — He enters Parliament 
 and defeats the demands of Henry VII.— More's retire- 
 ment to private life— Early years of the reign of Henry 
 VIII,— More's Utopiar-The encouragement the apostles 
 of the New Learning received from Henry VIII. — More 
 writes Utopia^More and Maohiavelli contrasted— Eras- 
 
Viii TABLE OF CONTENTS, 
 
 mus' description of More— His achievements at Henry's 
 court— The storm of religious revolt reaches England- 
 Henry and the Papal See— More foresees the coming 
 storm — He grows more and more conservative as the 
 cleavage between the new and old thought becomes more 
 pronounced — Persecutions while More was Lord Chancel- 
 lor — Resigns his position — Refuses to take the oath under 
 the Supremacy Act— Is arrested and executed — His 
 family life— Estimate of the man 182 
 
 X. The Utopia of Sir, Thomas More— Part I. 
 
 The prophetic insight which enabled Sir Thomas More to 
 discern the trend of social progress and true civilization 
 — Professor Drummond's elucidation of the same idea 
 along scientific lines — Egoism and Altruism the keynote 
 of the struggle of the ages — The age in which More wrote 
 and the purpose he had in view necessarily resulted in 
 limitations in '' Utopia," which we readily realize from, 
 our modern vantage ground — The spirit of the work was 
 altruistic and in alignment with true civilization and en- 
 during progress— An Utopian commonwealth in the New 
 World— Its excellence and its flaws— A pen picture of 
 ancient Peruvian government — Great reforms fore- 
 shadowed by the prophet soul of Sir Thomas Blore — Uni- 
 versal education — Industrial training — Treatment of the 
 sick— Six hours' labor a day — The aversion of the Uto- 
 pians to war— Their conduct in case of ^\'SkV — The noble 
 words of Charles Sumner against war 211 
 
 XI. The Utopia of Sib Thomas More— Part II. 
 
 Religious toleration in Utopia —Sir Thomas More's luminous 
 characterization of the Father of Light and Love in his 
 portrayal of the religious ideal of God held by the wisest 
 of the Utopians— King Utopus' broad and enlightened 
 view of religion : a luminous conception which con- 
 trasted boldly with the popular Christian spirit of the 
 age of More— The sad failure of the great philosopher 
 when the hour of testing came to realize his lofty ideal 
 when the divine within him was uninfluenced and undis- 
 mayed by baser influences — The limitations of More even 
 when on the mountain top. as revealed in a flash of in- 
 tolerance out of keeping with the religious theory of the 
 Utopians— the belief of the Utopians that the dead 
 were ever with them — The religion of the Utopians 
 a religion of deeds rather than creeds — Belief in 
 immortality — Humane treatment of criminals — Treat- 
 
TABLE OF CONTENTS. ix 
 
 ment of women — Liberal divorce views of Sir Thomas 
 More— Social and economic conditions in Utopia— The 
 strength and weakness in More's social views as illus- 
 trated in his work— Powerful assault on gold madness 
 and its disastrous effect on individual happiness and 
 social progress- Some striking comparisons which are 
 homely and suggestive— Sir Thomas More's " Utopia " a 
 prophet voice calling man to reason and justice and to 
 the consideration of higher ideals— Maurice Adams' 
 characterization of the work and his prophecy of the 
 coming day 234 
 
 XII. HisTOBiCAL Parallels Presented by the Lives op Seneca 
 
 AND Sir Thomas More. 
 Sir Thomas More and the Roman philosopher Seneca— Each 
 entered the arena of life in a time of civilization-wide 
 revolution — During Seneca's life Christianity rose to 
 such commanding proportions as to alarm convention- 
 alism and paganism and led to the most savage persecu- 
 tions — Like the century of More, the age of Seneca was 
 preeminently an age of change — The influence of Chris- 
 tianity upon paganism, in the philosopher's day com- 
 pared with the influence exerted by the New Learning 
 and the Reformation during the time of Sir Thomas 
 More— The fathers of Seneca and More both desired their 
 sons to become advocates and later to enter political 
 lif e-^eneca's passion for the lofty teachings of Stoicism— 
 The strong religious bent of Sir Thomas More's mind and 
 his early enthusiasm for the New Learning— The philoso- 
 phers in youth offend their sovereigns— Later each basks 
 in royal favor only to come to tragic ends by the hands 
 which had raised them to political eminence— The blot 
 on the escutcheons of Seneca and More- The writings of 
 these philosophers compared— General observations on 
 their lives 254 
 
 XIII. A Survey op the First Century op Modern Times. 
 
 The fall of Constantinople and the dawn of the first century 
 of modern times— The political revolutions of this period 
 — The downfall of feudalistic anarchy and the reestab- 
 lishment of centralized power— "What this change meant 
 to the people and to civilization— The revolution in Arf 
 in Italy— The New Learning and the Reformation north of 
 the Alps, or the revolution in religion— The march of 
 science and progress as seen in such works as Coperni- 
 cus accomplished ; the invention of the printing press. 
 
TABLE OF CONTENTS. 
 
 and the establishment of humane, hberal educational 
 institutions— The revolution in commerce wrought by 
 the discovery of the New World and the passage to India 
 by Portugal — Leading factors and dominant ideals 
 which produced this fivefold revolution — The kinship of 
 luminous periods— A glance at the Periclean age — The 
 Golden Age of Greece and the Renaissance compared — 
 A survey of the transition period in which we are living 
 — The century of Sir Thomas More and our time com- 
 pared 271 
 
I._WESTERN EUROPE DURING THE 
 CENTURY OF WHICH WE WRITE. 
 
 1450-1550 ; A period of general awakening and unprecedented 
 progress— The moral, spiritual and scientific awakening 
 nortli of the Alps — The golden age of art in Italy — The era of 
 discoveries and conquests which mark this period in the annals 
 of the Spanish Peninsula— The marvellous effect of the revival 
 of Greek learning on Western Europe — Germany gives the 
 world the Printing Press and the Copernican Theory— Colum- 
 bus discovers the New World — Sir Thomas More delivers a 
 prophet's message on social progress — A pen picture of Eras- 
 
 If the reader will 
 draw an arch ex- 
 tending from A. D. 
 1450 to A. D. 1550, 
 he will have span- 
 ned a century in 
 many respects the 
 most remarkable in 
 the annals of Euro- 
 pean civilization. It 
 was an epoch of un- 
 rest and growth, of 
 dazzling surprises 
 and momentous 
 
 GCTENBERO. 
 
 achievements. It was an era of exit and 
 1 
 
2 WESTERN EUROPE DURING THE 
 
 entrance, witnessing at once the eventide o£ 
 the Middle Ages and the dawning of mod- 
 ern times ; a century in which the glory of 
 former ages seemed to flood the receptive 
 vision of chosen spirits, revealing at once the 
 beauty of the past and unveiling new heights 
 of attainment and nobler ideals than the pre- 
 ceding ages had conceived. This century 
 broadened and deepened the ethical and 
 spiritual impulses of the German and Anglo- 
 Saxon peoples ; it crowned Italy with im- 
 mortal glory in the realm of art ; it gave to 
 Spain the sceptre of Western domain ; it 
 brought forth Colet, Erasmus, Sir Thomas 
 More, Savonarola, Luther, Calvin, Zwingli, 
 Knox and Melancthon ; it was the age of 
 Angelo, Titian, Correggio, Da Vinci and 
 Raphael. During this period Columbus gave 
 to Europe a new world, and Copernicus re- 
 vealed a new heaven. And what is of special 
 interest to the student of contemporaneous 
 events, the spirit of this century seems to be 
 present to-day, some of the parallels being pe- 
 culiarly striking. Indeed, in many respects, 
 it seems as if the budding blooms of the 
 earlier era Avere destined to flower in our time. 
 
CENTURY OF WHICH WE WRITE. 3 
 
 A few years before the century of which 
 we write dawned, Gutenberg had invented 
 movable type, and by 1455 books were being 
 published. With the advent of the printing 
 press came the possibility of which we now 
 dream — universal education. But for the 
 century of More it merely meant that books 
 would no longer be inaccessible to all save 
 the very wealthy. Many weary generations 
 were destined to pass before the masses, even 
 in civilized lands, would enjoy the advan- 
 tages of education. The advent of print- 
 ing, however, was a noteworthy landmark 
 in the history of civilization, and doubt- 
 less made the Reformation possible, while it 
 lent wings to progress and general educa- 
 tion. 
 
 Another thing which exerted a civilization- 
 wide influence in broadening the thought of 
 man and lifting him to a higher intellectual 
 altitude, was the promulgation of the dis- 
 coveries of Copernicus, published in 1543. 
 The great astronomer had arrived at his con- 
 clusions years before his work appeared ; but 
 not desiring the martyr's death, which the 
 religion of that age too frequently reserved 
 
4 WESTERN EUROPE DURING THE 
 
 for those who thought great thoughts, he 
 delayed its publication. Copernicus had 
 gathered the golden truths dropped by Py- 
 thagoras and other sages who had made the 
 heavens a profound study in earlier ages. He 
 had added to them the rich results which 
 crowned his own researches, and thus, in 
 time, completed what is known as the Coper- 
 nican theory. 
 
 We, to-day, can understand in a measure 
 the significance of this broader vision of the 
 universe, which to the conception of the 
 masses of the sixteenth century was an im- 
 pious contradiction of the expressed state- 
 ments of the word of God. The same bitter 
 opposition which played around the thought- 
 ful and serene head of Charles Darwin 
 when he announced the theory of evolu- 
 tion, assailed those who held the Copernican 
 theory. But, fortunately for Copernicus, he 
 died on the day on which his booh was pub- 
 lished. 
 
 We are indebted to the German thought 
 of this epoch for two of the most potent mo- 
 tors of our civilization — the invention of the 
 printing press, and the Copernican theory ; 
 
CENTURY OF WHICH WE WBITE. 5 
 
 and, unlike the wonderful religious awaken- 
 ing of the period, their beneficent influence 
 was ever free from the blighting spirit of 
 fanaticism, bigotry and persecution, which 
 so often darkened the history of the Refor- 
 mation. 
 
 Still another influence, destined to operate 
 more powerfully upon that age than either 
 the printing press or the Copernican theory, 
 was known as the " new learning," which, 
 north of the Alps, appealed to the ethical and 
 spiritual imptdses of the best thinkers, and 
 silently but effectively undermined the old 
 order. Many agencies had been quietly at 
 work preparing Europe for the new time ; 
 but it was not until a wave of thought 
 from a vanished civilization — not until 
 the magic of Grecian philosophy, art and 
 song — swept over the brow of Western 
 Europe, that her children awoke, and we 
 entered that period known as "modern 
 times." 
 
 The story is told of a beautiful maiden 
 who lived in the far-away childhood days of 
 earth, so rich in myth, legend and lore. 
 This maiden was as fair as Venus, as wise as 
 
6 WESTERN EUROPE DURING THE 
 
 Athene, and virtuous above all the multitu- 
 dinous goddesses of mythology. Her smile 
 radiated health and carried the sunlight of 
 joy ; her laughter dissipated gloom and 
 voiced the music of the spheres ; she was at 
 once loved by all and an inspiration to all. 
 At length, however, an evil genius cast over 
 her a baleful spell ; she fell into a trance, 
 from which neither the entreaty of love nor 
 the sobbing of grief could rouse her. The 
 oracle was consulted. He declared that in 
 music lay the remedy, that the vibrations of 
 a certain chord would unlock the closed door 
 of the senses and awaken or woo back the 
 spirit. Now it chanced that Orpheus passed 
 that way, and the whole city besought him 
 to call the sleeper back to them. He con- 
 sented, and at the sound of his heavenly 
 music the maiden stirred, the breath grew 
 deeper, a faint blush deepened into a crimson 
 glow upon the cheek, the ashen lips became 
 vermilion, the leaden lids lifted. The old- 
 time glory and light peered from eyes which 
 had been glazed, and at length her voice 
 caught up the strains of music, giving them 
 a new sweetness and a deeper meaning 
 
CENTURY OF WHICB WE WHITE. 7 
 
 than even the musician had hitherto con- 
 ceived. 
 
 In much the same manner the soul o£ 
 Western Europe seemed enthralled until she 
 was stirred by the wealth of Grecian 
 thought. Plato spoke to philosophers, and 
 Homer to those of poetic imagination. 
 Moreover, the New Testament, read in the 
 original, seemed to glow with new life. 
 There was a vitality in the thought and 
 language of this mother of European arts 
 and letters which quickened the spirit of the 
 century. 
 
 It is a curious but oft-noted fact, that 
 the same thing may awaken entirely different 
 sentiments in different individuals, and this 
 fact is equally true of nations and civiliza- 
 tions. Thus that which may arouse the 
 artistic or aesthetic side of one people may 
 appeal to the ethical and religious sentiments 
 of races more sturdy, younger, and not yet 
 so enervated by wealth and luxury as their 
 older neiglibors-,- while still a third people 
 may perceive the same new thought, but in- 
 stead of its appealing to the aesthetic, intellect- 
 ual or spiritual impulses, it quickens in them 
 
8 WESTERN EUROPE DURING THE 
 
 a desire for wealth which will permit the 
 gratifying of the physical nature and the 
 satisfaction of worldly ambition. Now the 
 general awakening of this century produced 
 exactly these phenomena; a triangle, as it 
 were, in which the same thought waves and 
 influences called into activity widely different 
 sentiments and emotions. Thus north of 
 the Alps, especially among the German and 
 English people, it appealed almost entirely to 
 ethical, religious, and deeply philosophical 
 sentiments. All for spiritual and scientific 
 truth, or the eternal verities of the universe, 
 became the watchword along this line of 
 the triangle. South of the Alps, art, or the 
 aesthetic sentiment,, predominated. All for 
 beauty was the keynote of Italian thought, 
 and iu Florence and Rome painting, scidp- 
 ture and architecture blossomed as never 
 before. To the westward the awakening 
 was more on the physical plane ; the mind 
 of man was dominated by greed for gold. 
 Riches — the wealth of the Indies — this was 
 the magnet which furnished the money for 
 Columbus and which nerved the Portu- 
 guese to weather the Cape of Good Hope ; 
 
CENTURY OF WHICH WE WRITE. 9 
 
 discovery for possession and conquest, 
 for the power and gratification which gold 
 could yield. Wealth ! — ah, that meant 
 splendid homes, magnificent villas, the grati- 
 fication of passions and appetites, the mas- 
 tery of man, and, through this, further 
 license. 
 
 When, in 1453, Constantinople fell, the 
 Greek scholars from the Bosphorus fled to 
 Italy. In Florence they found a welcome 
 home. To a civilization hungry for some- 
 thing more than husks, the Grecian philoso- 
 phy, poetry and art opened a new world of in- 
 tellectual wealth, which possessed an irresist- 
 ible attraction for starving souls. A revival 
 in art and letters followed, and for a time 
 Western Europe drew new life and inspira- 
 tion from the wealth of forgotten Grecian 
 thought, and the beautiful, though to a cer- 
 tain extent sensuous, ideals of the mother of 
 Western art. Tourists from north of th& 
 Alps, visiting Italy, carried back to their- 
 native lands wonderful stories of a redis- 
 covered civilization. Florence became the 
 Mecca of intellectual pilgrims. The blend- 
 ing of sturdy morality and lofty aspiration 
 
10 WESTERN EUROPE DURING THE 
 
 which characterized the noblest of the West- 
 ern minds with the wonderful ideality and 
 subtle philosophy of Greece, formed a pure 
 and exalted spirituality which sought to 
 marry all the glory and refinement of the 
 past to the highest hopes and noblest - con- 
 ceptions of the present. 
 
 In England among those who caught 
 the contagion of the hour were William 
 Grocyn, Dr. Thomas Linacre and John Colet. 
 They journeyed across the Alps and absorbed 
 the spirit of Greece at her best. Oxford 
 soon became a centre of the " New Learning" 
 in England. Grocyn's lectures created great 
 enthusiasm ; Linacre aroused among his 
 countrymen a love for medical research, 
 and later became the leading spirit among 
 the founders as well as the president of the 
 first coUege of physicians of London ; while 
 John Colet, a man of a profoundly religious 
 nature, returned from Florence with brain 
 aflame with lofty enthusiasm. He longed to 
 make education general and to purify the 
 church. He became Dean of St. Paul's and 
 founded and endowed the St. Paul's Latin- 
 Grammar School in England, thereby plant- 
 
CENTURY OF WHICH WE WRITE. 11 
 
 ing the seed of that glorious system of edu- 
 cation which has silently grown in popular- 
 ity and comprehensiveness, until on the soil 
 of our great republic it has blossomed into 
 our public-school system of education. The 
 blossom of Colet Grammar School is to-day 
 the bulwark of democracy. 
 
 But this was not all. The enthusiasm 
 created at Oxford by the " New Learning " 
 infected scores of young men and laid the 
 foundation for the golden age of Elizabethan 
 literature. Among the youths who caught 
 this vivifying spirit were Sir Thomas More 
 and the young German Erasmus. Linacre 
 had returned from Florence imbued with a 
 passion for science along medical lines, and 
 Colet had been fired with, the ideal of a 
 purer church and an educated people. Ox- 
 ford in turn aroused the loftiest ethical senti- 
 ments in More, leading him up the very 
 Alps of spirituality, and calling from his 
 brain " Utopia" ; while that strange, erratic, 
 but wonderful man, Erasmus, haunted by 
 the new ideal, wandered from land to land, 
 revealing to others the golden vision he had 
 perceived. 
 
12 
 
 WESTERN EUROPE DURING THE 
 
 Erasmus ! We must pause a moment be- 
 fore this man, whose fair complexion, bkie 
 
 eyes and almost 
 golden hair the 
 canvas of Hol- 
 bein has rendered 
 familiar to the 
 hurrying gaze of 
 passing genera- 
 tions for three 
 hundred years ; 
 for he embodied 
 in a notable de- 
 gree the union 
 of the sturdy re- 
 erasmus. ligious fervor of 
 
 the Western mind with the high ideals and 
 lofty thought which came with his knowl- 
 edge of Greek. His was one of those re- 
 ceptive souls which when touched by truth 
 become luminous. He stood for what might 
 be termed the spiritual blossom of this intel- 
 lectual revival. But neither the purely lit- 
 erary and artistic, nor yet the speciUative 
 side of Greek thought, appealed so keenly to 
 his inner self as the Greek New Testament, 
 
CENTURY OF WHICH WE WRITE. 13 
 
 for his was essentially a religious nature. An 
 emancipated mankind and a purified and 
 unified church — such was his dream, ^s it 
 was the ideal of scores of other thinkers 
 who came under the strange and seemingly 
 almost mystic spell of this time of rebirth. 
 
 Erasmus was a highly refined and sensitive 
 nature ; his innate love of all that was' pure 
 and beautiful was second only to his insati- 
 able thirst for knowledge. Being placed 
 early in a convent, he came to loathe the 
 coarse and illiterate monks who were his 
 constant companions. At length fortune 
 favored him ; the Bishop of Cambray sue-, 
 ceeded in procuring a papal dispensation for 
 Erasmus, and employed him as his secretary. 
 Later, he went to Paris and entered the uni- 
 versity there. During that period he wrote 
 much, and also taught a number of aspiring 
 youths. From France he went to England, 
 where he was able to attend Oxford, the 
 Western centre of the "New Learning." 
 Hore he formed lifelong friendships with 
 some of the chosen spirits of his age, 
 and though most of his life was spent in 
 wandering from land to land, the ties knit 
 
14 WESTERN EUROPE DURING THE 
 
 in England were of inestimable value to 
 him. 
 
 Erasmus had an extremely delicate con- 
 stitution and a highly sensitive nervous 
 organism. He was by nature open and 
 frank ; but being an intellectual sensitive, 
 his brain at times took color from its mental 
 environment, and this led to the charge of 
 fickleness, and even hypocrisy, when, in fact, 
 he was as incapable of dissimulation as of 
 coarseness. He fought the corruption of 
 the church, and brought all the power of his 
 pen to bear against the superstition of his 
 age and the excesses of the priesthood. The 
 monks hated him for his terrible satire, di- 
 rected against their ignorance, superstition 
 and excesses. Ecclesiasticism felt in a vague 
 way that within her walls stood a knight of 
 truth who, in assailing iniquity, was also 
 loosening her foundations ; while the con- 
 ventional religionists openly declared that 
 " Erasmus laid the egg of the Reformation 
 and Luther hatched it." 
 
 And yet, while sharing many views in 
 common with Luther, and while steadfastly 
 refusing to exhibit the extreme spirit of 
 
CENTURY OF WHICH WE WRITE. 15 
 
 fanatical bigotry, either for or against Rome, 
 he nevertheless shrank from the crude and 
 coarse literature which emanated from the 
 strongholds of the Reformation ; and still 
 more did his soul recoil from the bUnd fana- 
 ticism which so frequently possessed the 
 leaders of the movement and expressed itself 
 in utter contempt for literature and art. " I 
 abhor the Evangelics," he wrote, " because 
 it is through them that literature is every- 
 where declining." Of Erasmus, Drummond 
 well says : " He was in his own age the 
 apostle of common sense and rational re- 
 ligion. He did not care for dogma; from 
 the beginning of his life to the end he re- 
 mained true to the purpose of his life, which 
 was to fight the battle of sound learning and 
 plain common sense against the power of 
 ignorance and superstition." 
 
 Erasmus was essentially a "free lance" 
 among the theologians of his day. Indeed, 
 he has been termed the Voltaire of the 
 Renaissance. In writing of him one of the 
 most eminent thinkers among the divines of 
 England observes that '•' The principle that 
 reason was the only guide of life, the superior 
 
16 WESTERN EUROPE DURING THE 
 
 article of all questions — political and religious 
 included — has its earliest and most complete 
 example in Erasmus." * 
 
 The fact that this great man of letters re- 
 fused to become a partisan in the bitter war 
 raoinof between Rome and the Reformation 
 naturally provoked the charge of cowardice ; 
 which, however, was clearly unjust, for the 
 reason that a craven soul, or one who placed 
 ambition above conviction, would have sided 
 with Rome, as such a course wordd have se- 
 cured for him Avealth, glory and preferment 
 from the opulent Roman hierarchy ; or, if 
 his convictions had swayed him strongly 
 toward reformation, he might easily have 
 become the great literary head of the new 
 movement. He chose the only course which 
 a high-minded man of his bent could choose. 
 
 Moreover, the charge of cowardice sinks 
 before the daring words of censure hurled 
 at kings and potentates. On one occasion 
 he declared that " The industry of the citi- 
 zens creates wealth for the rapacious lords 
 to plunder." Again he exclaims, with the 
 
 * Kev. Mark Pattison, rector of Lincoln College, Oxford, in 
 Encyclopsedia Britannica, Vol. VIII., p. gi(;. 
 
CENTURY OF WHICH WE WRITE. 17 
 
 irony peculiar to liis writings : '" Kings who 
 are scarcely men are called divine ; they are 
 ' invincible,' though they fly from every 
 battlefield ; ' serene,' though they turn the 
 world upside down in a storm of war ; 
 'illustrious,' though they grovel in igno- 
 rance of all that is noble. Of all birds, 
 the eagle alone has seemed to wise men the 
 type of royalty — a bird neither beautifid, 
 musical nor good for food, but murderous, 
 greedy, hateful to all, the curse of all; with^ 
 its great power for doing harm only sur- 
 passed by its great desire to do it." 
 
 I have dwelt somewhat at length upon 
 Erasmus because he represents in so large a 
 way the spii'it of the " New Learning " as 
 exhibited at Oxford, where the artistic and 
 literary phases which so charmed Florence 
 sank before the spiritual fervor which the 
 new movement kindled north of the Alps. 
 Moreover, he represented one of the great 
 moral forces which rose in this century. 
 Erasmus and the Oxford school stood for the 
 enhghtenment of the people, a purified and 
 unified church, and the cultivation and ex- 
 tension of literature and art. 
 
II.— THE REFORMATION^ AND SOME 
 ITS LEADING SPIRITS. 
 
 OF 
 
 The Eeformation— Causes which wrought a positive change in the 
 convictions of devout men and women— A pen picture of Sa- 
 vonarola—Martin Luther, the head and front of the Eeforma- 
 tion— His early life— Visit to Home- Return to his father- 
 land—He boldly denounces the sale of indulgences to commit 
 crime and is cited before the Cardinal Legate— Germany is 
 electrified by his bold utterances — Leo X. issues a bull con- 
 demning Luther which the reformer promptly burns— He 
 appears before the Diet of Worms — John Calvin — His strength 
 and weakness — Zwingli, Knox, Melancthon — A word about 
 the leaders of the Protestant Reformation. 
 
 While tlie 
 " New Learn- 
 ing " was influ- 
 encing such 
 men as Sir 
 Thomas More 
 and Erasmus, 
 an ethical and 
 religious revo- 
 lution destined 
 to make this 
 period one of 
 SAVONAROLA. the most mem- 
 
 orahle in the annals of civilization, burst 
 18 
 
REFORMATION AND ITS LEADING SPIRITS. 19 
 
 upon the world. It was a profound protest 
 of sincere Christians against the corruption 
 which was practised under the cloak of re- 
 ligion — a great moral upheaval which in its 
 initial stage was merely a remonstrance within 
 the church, with no thought on the part of 
 its leaders of a separation from Rome. The 
 church, however, was in no mood to be dic- 
 tated to, even though the cry was for a purer 
 religion, and she vainly endeavored to sup- 
 press what was at first a revolt, but which 
 ended in becoming a revolution of civiliza- 
 tion-wide proportion — a movement Avhich 
 changed the thought of nations and altered 
 the convictions of millions of sincere, truth- 
 loving men and women. 
 
 Many and complex were the influences 
 which made the Reformation inevitable ; the 
 primary cause was the corruption of the 
 church, but the printing press had given 
 wings to thought and the influence of the 
 new learning had broadened the horizon of 
 the hesi thinkers. The New Testament in 
 the original Greek had been devoured by 
 scholars who had hitherto been accustomed 
 to study and discuss the works of commenta- 
 
20 THE REFORMATION AND HOME 
 
 tors chiefly concerned with the writings and 
 opinions of the church fathers. The New 
 Testament in its original tongue proved a 
 new inspiration to the college youths of this 
 age, while its translation into German Ijy 
 Luther and into English by Tyndale gave a 
 new impetus to religious thought and specu- 
 lation among the less scholarly. 
 
 Political contentions also in various ways 
 favored this great protest, and Avhat Erasmus 
 had unconsciously accomplished among the 
 German people, Rabelais had in a different 
 manner and with more daring wrought in 
 France. In England the apprehension felt 
 by patriotic Britons lest Henry VIII. should 
 die without male issue, and a hated Scot as- 
 cend the throne, led many prelates and states- 
 men to favor a divorce, while the death of 
 the king's sons confirmed the superstitious in 
 the belief that the curse of God rested on 
 Henry's union with Catherine of Aragon. 
 The hesitation of the Papal See to decide as 
 to the right of Henry to put away Catherine 
 and marry again convinced many devout and 
 thoughtful men that policy rather than ethi- 
 cal or religious scruples prevented Rome from 
 
OF ITS LEAVING SPIRITS. 
 
 21 
 
 taking a positive stand on this important 
 question. These were some of the positive 
 influences which op- 
 erated iipon pubHc 
 opinion north of 
 the Alps. They 
 were tributaries to 
 a deep flowing 
 current of luirest J 
 which ran through 
 the brain of the age. 
 Luther and Melanc- 
 thon in Germany, 
 Calvin in France, 
 ZwingH in Switzerland, Cranmer in Eng- 
 land, and Knox in Scotland merely touched 
 the tinder of the universal discontent in 
 their various lands. 
 
 The Reformation demonstrated the essen- 
 tial heroism which dwells in the soul of 
 man, whether he be peasant, priest or noble. 
 It held before the mind's eye of those who 
 hungered for a higher life and an exemplifi- 
 cation of religion purer than was to be 
 found in the conventionalism of the day, an 
 exalted though austere ideal which awak- 
 
 LuTHER IN Youth. 
 
22 THE REFORMATION AND SOME 
 
 ened a deep response, causing men, women 
 and children to sink all thoughts of present 
 happiness, comfort or even life, rather than 
 yield what they believed to be the eternal 
 truth. It illustrated ' anew the wonderful 
 power which an idea or conviction may ex- 
 ert in transforming human lives. As though 
 a trumpet-blast had called them to come up 
 higher from a plane of sordid selfishness 
 and license, or a condition of sodden hope- 
 lessness, a multitude of high-born souls in 
 various European lands became living ex- 
 amples of a 23urer conception of religion. 
 To the student of human nature nothing is 
 more instructive than the constantly recur- 
 ring illustration of the transforming power 
 of ideas or ideals which appeal strongly to 
 the imagination, and the Reformation fur- 
 nishes a striking illustration of this truth, 
 which when appreciated by civilization will 
 render a redeemed humanity an assured 
 fact instead of a persistent but elusive 
 dream. 
 
 The spirit of the Reformation was uncon- 
 sciously heralded by the Italian priest, pro- 
 phet and statesman, Savonarola. His was 
 
OF ITS LEADING SPIRITH. 
 
 23 
 
 essentially the spirit of Luther, Zwingli, and 
 Melancthon.* He was a man entirely pos- 
 sessed by what he con- 
 ceived to be the divine 
 truth, and from his ad- 
 vent in Florence until 
 he entered the torture 
 chamber he ever mani- 
 fested an utter con- 
 tempt for self and an 
 absolute allegiance to 
 a high but sombre con- 
 ception of religious 
 duty, which made him 
 one of the most strik- 
 ing figures of his age. 
 away from a home of ease and luxury, 
 and turned his back upon the pleasures of 
 
 Melancthon. 
 
 Savonarola stole 
 
 * Mr. Symonds holds that Savonarola was not a precursor o£ 
 the Reformation, and shows that he did not break with the church, 
 I do not think, however, that this position is well taken. Up to a. 
 certain point Luther did not break with the church. Indeed, the- 
 dream of the leaders of the Reformation in its inception was not a 
 schismbut thepurifleation ofthe church. Savonarola lived before 
 Luther. He in his time was as brave and as radical as was. 
 Luther at a later date, in a region more remote from Rome. To. 
 me the spirit which actuated Savonarola appears essentially the: 
 spirit which burned in the brain of Luther. He was the prophet 
 voice crying in the wilderness. He vaguely apprehended the 
 coming Reformation. 
 
21 THE liEFORMATION AND SOME 
 
 the Este Palace at Ferrara, where he was 
 welcomed, and where he beheld the excesses 
 of joyous, careless youth and beauty in- 
 dulged in on floors beneath which he knew 
 prisoners languished in gloomy dungeons. 
 In writing to his father in regard to his 
 entering the cloister, Savonarola gives the 
 following as his reason for the act : " The 
 great misery of the world ; the iniquities of 
 men ; their rapes, adulteries and robberies ; 
 their pride, idolatry and fearful blasphemy 
 are so widespread, I could not endure the 
 enormous wickedness of the blinded people 
 of Italy ; the more so because I see every- 
 where virtue despised and vice honored." 
 
 Savonarola was a poor, obscure monk 
 when he entered Florence, and Lorenzo de' 
 Medici was at the height of his power. In 
 1491 he delivered a series of discourses on 
 the Apocalypse which created a tremendous 
 impression in Florence. Later, when writ- 
 ing of these sermons, he said: "I began 
 publicly to expound the Revelation in our 
 Church of St. Mark. During the course of 
 the year I endeavored to develop these 
 three propositions : (1) That the church 
 
OF ITS LEADING SPIRITS. 25 
 
 would be renewed in our times. (2) That 
 before the renovation God would strike 
 Italy with a fearful chastisement. (3) That 
 these would happen shortly." The woes 
 which were to afflict Italy were ever present 
 in his mind. His prophecies met with start- 
 ling verification, and his conviction that 
 Christianity was to be renewed was realized, 
 though not in the way that so ardent a lover 
 of the Mother Church might have wished. 
 At the time when Savonarola began to move 
 the conscience of the people, to the superficial 
 observer Florence was one of the brightest 
 jewels in the crown of civilization. She 
 was the patron of art and letters, the throne 
 of culture and beauty, and her noble sons 
 and daughters seemed to move in a ceaseless 
 round of gay and joyous life, though the 
 outward forms of religion were scrupulously 
 observed. But under this engaging mask 
 seethed uncontrolled passions. Cruelty and 
 injustice were practised on every hand by 
 therieli and powerful. The spirit of soul- 
 less selfishness seemed to have anaesthetized 
 the people, from the prince to the peasant ; 
 even the church was honeycombed with 
 
26 TBE REFORMATION AND SOME 
 
 immorality. In one of his sermons preached 
 in Lent, 1497, Savonarola boldly declared 
 " that the priests were slaying the souls of 
 their flocks by their wicked example." 
 " Their worship is," he adds, " to spend the 
 nights with strumpets and their days in 
 singing in the choir. The altar is their 
 shop." Savonarola beheld with horror the 
 profligacy on every hand. He felt that he 
 was inspired of God. He heard voices and 
 beheld visions. In his sermons he seemed 
 to lose himself in the thoughts which filled 
 his brain. 
 
 His terrible prophetic predictions were 
 fulfilled in a manner which startled the 
 Florentines. Even Lorenzo, whose evil con- 
 duct had not escaped the scathing denunci- 
 ations of Savonarola, Avhen on his deathbed 
 sent for the austere monk. In the dark 
 days which followed it was Savonarola to 
 whom Florence turned as to a wise father. 
 He proved his patriotism and statesmanship 
 to be as lofty as his spirituality. His one 
 great desire was to make men better, to 
 bring them to God. But after the glory 
 came the gloom. He had sought to slay 
 
OF ITS LEADING SPIRITS. 27 
 
 the hydra of evil, and it at length struck 
 him down at a time when virtue was still 
 weak in the city of Florence. His fate was 
 one common to high-born souls who choose 
 to be the pioneers of truth. At the 
 moment when the flames wrapped the body 
 which had endured the most frightful 
 torture, faint hearts doubtless felt that all 
 was lost for which he had lived. As a matter 
 of fact, however, his Ufe, deeds and teach- 
 ings were to prove an inspiration to the Eef- 
 ormation. The influence of a noble life 
 lives in memory and in story, ennobling 
 all who come under its spell. So also the 
 lofty utterances of a truth-inspired brain 
 carry the vitality of moral heroism which 
 moulds and shapes other lives. The ashes of 
 Savonarola were thrown into the waters of 
 the Arno, but the mighty spirit of truth 
 which he had awakened lived in the hearts 
 of others, and long ere he died men were 
 born destined to carry forward on a broader 
 scale the work he had essayed in Florence. 
 At the time when the divine fires were 
 burning brightest in the soul of Savonarola, 
 and the glory of the beyond was crowning 
 
'28 
 
 THE REFORMATION AND SOME 
 
 his brow, north of the Alps in the German 
 town of Eisenach Martin Luther, a poor 
 student with a charming tenor voice, was 
 singing for alms before the homes of the 
 well-to-do. In early life this young man 
 
 caught the spirit of 
 his age, which is 
 essentially the spirit 
 of our time; he 
 felt the universal 
 unrest and the ill- 
 defined desire for 
 something better, 
 purer and truer. 
 He turned to relig- 
 ion as naturally 
 
 LxTTHER IN Middle Life. aS did Titian tO 
 
 art, Copernicus to the stars, or Columbus to 
 the ocean. In 1505 he entered the Au"-us- 
 tinian convent at Erfurt. Here he found a 
 Bible and greedily devoured its contents. 
 But it did not give him peace. A great fear 
 occupied his mental horizon. An angry 
 God and a lost world filled the range of his 
 vision. " I tormented myself to death," he 
 declared, " to make my peace with God, but 
 
OF ITS LEADING SPIRITS. 29 
 
 I was in darkness and found it not." For- 
 tunately for him Staupitz, the vicar-general 
 of his order, had passed through a similar 
 ordeal. " He had learned heart religion from 
 the mystics," and he greatly aided Luther. 
 
 In 1511 Luther went to Rome. Here he 
 was disillusioned. Instead of a holy city, he 
 found a gay, pleasure-loving,, voluptuous 
 metropolis with a sacred college composed of 
 men who were the antipodes of his ideal of 
 holy fathers. The scandals current, the easy 
 morals, the prodigality and profligacy he wit- 
 nessed on every hand, where he had expected 
 to find profound spirituality and an all-com- 
 passionate charity, filled his mind with horror. 
 He returned and took up his life work. In 
 1517 he boldly denounced the sale of indulg- 
 ences, and shortly after was summoned to ap- 
 pear before the cardinal legate, James de Vio 
 of Gaeta. The cardinal expected to crush him 
 with a few words. Luther convinced him 
 that he had a man to deal with. 
 
 " I can dispute no longer with this beast," 
 the cardinal exclaimed, " he has two wicked 
 eyes and marvellous thoughts in his head." 
 
 Another ineffectual attempt was made by 
 
30 THE REFORMATION AND SOME 
 
 Rome to bring Luther to submission. The 
 breach widened. The reformer's voice and 
 pen were busy. He electrified the German 
 people. The vigor o£ his thought, his sin- 
 cerity, earnestness and undoubted religious 
 fervor touched the hearts of his countrymen, 
 and his appeals to their patriotism fired them 
 with admiration for the bold, brave man who 
 was battling unaided for a purer church and 
 a truer life. 
 
 In 1520 Pope Leo X. issued a bull con- 
 demning Luther as a heretic. This bull 
 Luther publicly burned. He was next or- 
 dered by the Emperor Charles V. to appear 
 before the Diet of Worms. His friends urged 
 him to remain away. His superb courage 
 was displayed in his memorable reply, " Were 
 there as many devils in Worms as tiles on the 
 roofs of the houses, still would I enter." He 
 faced his accusers, and departed under the 
 safe conduct of the emperor. 
 
 From this time he woi-ked indefatigably. 
 He translated the Bible into German ; he 
 wrote mvich and preached frequently. He 
 became the great incarnation of aroused re- 
 ligious thought in his day, and as such was 
 
OF ITS LEADING SPIRITS. 31 
 
 recognized alike by the nobility and the 
 people. This fact explains the extraordinary 
 results which attended his labors and made 
 it possible for an obscure monk to change 
 the faith of nations and kindle the fires of 
 reformation in many lands. In the history 
 of Protestantism Luther Avill always remain 
 a colossus among giants. Yet he was not 
 without his faults. His language was often 
 intemperate, coarse and bitter. Moreover, 
 he was intolerant. The great man who 
 braved Rome was not great enough to accord 
 the same tolerance to the pure-souled Zwingli 
 which he had demanded for himself. 
 
 Second only to Luther among the great 
 theological reformers of the sixteenth cent- 
 ury stands John Calvin. The influence 
 exerted by this stern but sincere man has 
 colored the thought of millions of human 
 lives, and largely shaped the current of his- 
 tory in many lands. He was educated for a 
 Roman priest, but afterwards studied Jaw, 
 and thus became at once a master in ecclesi- 
 astical learning and an astute reasoner. In- 
 deed, an aptitude for scholastic philosophy 
 seemed natural to him. In life he was simple, 
 
32 
 
 THE REFORMATION AND SOME 
 
 severe and inexorable. Even when a youth 
 at school, he condemned all frivoHty and 
 absented himself from all popular pastimes 
 and pleasures. He was a tireless student, and 
 pondered deeply upon religious problems. 
 
 His rigid views 
 of life led him most 
 naturally to dwell 
 upon those texts 
 in that library of 
 many minds and 
 complex thought, 
 the Bible, which 
 coincided with his 
 gloomy musings. It 
 was as natural for 
 
 John Calvin. John Calviu tO 
 
 focus his intellect upon the passages from 
 which he drew his inferences and upon which 
 he built his theory of unconditional elec- 
 tion, as it was for Whittier's thought to rest 
 on those luminous passages which feed in- 
 stead of poison a civilized soul. We are 
 largely what our ideals and thoughts make 
 us. Calvin's conception of God colored his 
 every thought and deed. The frightful 
 
OF ITS LEAVING SPLITS. 33 
 
 philosophy which foredoomed babes to eter- 
 nal damnation was a part of his conclusions 
 based upon passages which appealed most 
 strongly to him. To question the accuracy 
 of that philosophy which to him was clearly 
 the eternal truth, was to be guilty of a heresy 
 worthy of death. 
 
 Calvin failed to comprehend the important 
 truth that the great ethical and spiritual veri- 
 ties can differ only in degree as we ascend 
 from the savage to the most loving and ten- 
 der nature that follows the golden rule as 
 the supreme law of conduct, and from this 
 truly civilized child of the Infinite, to the 
 source of all life, love, justice and intelhgence 
 in an All-wise God, who, while greater as the 
 mountain is greater than the hill, neverthe- 
 less is of the same nature as the most lu- 
 minous expressions of these attributes in the 
 noblest of His children. These great moral 
 verities which in the savage are a rivulet, 
 in the barbarian a stream, in the civilized 
 man a river, are in God the ocean of life. 
 But this supreme truth Calvin failed to dis- 
 cern, else he would never have drawn inspi- 
 ration from a chain of passages which logically 
 3 
 
34 THE BEFOEMATION AND SOME 
 
 make the Creator of the universe a monster, 
 who in His creation of man committed a 
 crime of measureless proportions. 
 
 In justice to Calvin, however, we must re- 
 member that in his day religion was on a 
 much lower plane than it is to-day. Crude 
 literal conceptions of texts had created an 
 atmosphere of savage intolerance. The most 
 sincere believers who followed the masterly 
 reasonings of the founder of Presbyterianism, 
 interpreted all the seemingly savage passages 
 literally ; but when they came to such pas- 
 sages as " The letter killeth and the spirit 
 maketh alive," they passed them over as 
 something meaningless or incomprehensible. 
 Therefore, they believed in the resurrection of 
 the physical body, literally in a lake of fire, 
 and an endless sentence to undying torment 
 for those foreordained before the foundation 
 of the world to be damned, even though they 
 die in infancy. The popular conception 
 among those of other faiths at this time held 
 none the less jealously to the theory of a 
 never-ending torment in a lake of fire and 
 brimstone in which the bodies of the con- 
 demned would forever writhe. Thus the 
 
OF ITS LEADING SPIRITS. 
 
 35 
 
 church came naturally to seek to destroy 
 heresy by a weak imitation of what she con- 
 ceived to be the divine method of punish- 
 ment. This is a fact we must bear in mind 
 when viewing the atrocities of this age, the 
 intolerance of Luther, or the crimes of Calvin. 
 Their actions were 
 
 the 
 their 
 
 reflection of 
 ideals. They 
 imitating the 
 they worship- 
 
 were 
 God 
 ped. 
 
 Calvin was a very 
 young man when 
 the powerful spirit 
 of the Reformation 
 spreading over 
 France took posses- 
 sion of his suscept- 
 i b 1 e nature. He 
 studied the Bible in 
 
 John Knox. 
 
 French, and later the New Testament in 
 Greek, and soon became an influential 
 teacher among those who dissented from 
 the prevailing faith. Indeed, when only 
 twenty-four years old he was recognized 
 
36 THE REFORMATION AND SOME 
 
 as the leading spirit of the Keformation 
 in Prance. It soon became necessary for 
 him to fly from city to city and land to 
 land to escape the fires of Rome. In 1536 
 he published his great book, " Institutes 
 of the Christian Religion," a work which, 
 though it came from the brain of a man not 
 yet thirty years old, has shaped the faith of 
 millions of thoughtful people. The " Insti- 
 tutes " gave Calvin prestige as a logician, 
 and he soon became regarded as the fore- 
 most reasoner of the Reformation. 
 
 In his twenty-eighth year he settled in 
 Geneva, where he. sought to establish an ab- 
 solute theocracy. He insisted on his religious 
 views being taught in the schools, and sought 
 to compel the people to conform to his ideas 
 in regard to their mode of living and the cut 
 of their clothes. This, as might naturally 
 be expected, excited the indignation of the 
 citizens, and Calvin was for a time ban- 
 ished. He was, however, recalled in the 
 winter of 1541, after which he succeeded in 
 carrying into effect his views of reform. He 
 was an indefatigable worker, a man of deep 
 convictions, and absolutely sincere. He lacked 
 
OF ITS LEADING SPIRITS. 37 
 
 the enthusiasm and fire o£ Luther and most 
 of the other leaders of the Reformation, but 
 he was far superior to them as a logician. 
 After his return to Geneva, he labored night 
 and day. There is something pathetic in 
 these lines taken from a letter to a friend : 
 
 " I have not time to look out of my house 
 at the blessed sun. When I have settled 
 my usual business I have so many letters to 
 write, so many questions to answer, that 
 many a night is spent without any offering 
 of sleep being brought to nature." 
 
 During Calvin's supremacy in Geneva, 
 many persons were banished on account of 
 loyalty to religious convictions which did not 
 accord with his views. But the deepest stain 
 on his reputation is the part he played in the 
 terrible death of his old-time adversary, Ser- 
 vetus, whom he caused to be arrested, and 
 who was vigorously prosecuted by Calvin. A 
 sentence of death by burning was passed. It 
 is claimed that Calvin exerted his influence 
 to have Servetus slain by the sword instead 
 of being burned. In this, however, he failed, 
 and Servetus met death at the stake. As 
 before observed, intolerance permeated the 
 
38 THE REFORMATION AND SOME 
 
 spirit of the age. Calvin, who when driven 
 from France had written, " Every step to- 
 ward its boundary cost me tears," afterwards 
 abetted the banishment of Dr. Bolsec from 
 his home and practice because he opposed 
 Calvin's view of predestination. Indeed, it 
 seems that tolerance is the hardest of all les- 
 sons for mankind to learn, unless it he faith 
 in freedom ; and yet not until humanity 
 stands squarely upon the golden rule, which 
 is the epitome of both, will man be truly 
 civilized. 
 
 John Calvin led a simple life. He ate 
 little, dressed plainly, and avoided all extrav- 
 agance and ostentation. There is something 
 very attractive in the simplicity and purity 
 which characterized this life ; but one can- 
 not fail to regret that a soul so gifted and so 
 sincere could not find a resting place on the 
 love-lit peaks in the Bible which reflect a lofty 
 spirituality, and which contain the prophecy 
 of that dawn when all shall abide in the liarht. 
 
 Liither and Calvin were the two areat 
 luminaries of the Reformation. But there 
 were many other bright lights. Zwingli in 
 Switzerland drew his inspiration from the New 
 
OF ITS LEADING SPIRITS. 
 
 39 
 
 Testament in the original Greek. He was 
 a great friend of Erasmus and essayed to 
 purify church and 
 state, but he per- 
 ished on the bat- 
 tlefield. Of this 
 great reformer, 
 Jean Victor 
 Duruy observes : 
 " As early as 1517 
 he had declared 
 the Gospel the 
 only rule of faith. 
 One day when 
 the sellers of in- 
 dulgences begged him not to impede their 
 commerce, because this money would serve 
 to build the most beautiful temple of the 
 universe, he showed the people the snowy 
 summit of the Alps, gilded by the rays of 
 the setting sun. ' Behold,' he cried, ' the 
 throne of the Eternal ; contemplate His works, 
 adore Him in His magnificence ; that is worth 
 more than ofPerings to monks and pilgrim- 
 ages to the bones of the dead.' " Knox, the 
 Calvin of Scotland, by his superb intrepidity, 
 
 ZWISWM 
 
40 THE REFORMATION AND SOME 
 
 his intense earnestness, his profound belief 
 in the truth of what he preached, moulded 
 ' the religious thought of his people. Melanc- 
 thon was another colossal figure. He was 
 the friend and counsellor of Luther, a scholar 
 who almost always suggested moderation, 
 who strove to live up to the maxim, " In 
 essentials unity, in matters of doubt liberty, 
 in all things charity ; " yet even he failed to 
 entirely escape the intolerance of the age, 
 for he justified Calvin in compassing the 
 death of Servetus. 
 
 All these men possessed that dauntless 
 courage, that intensity of conviction, that love 
 of truth, that stern morality, which are emi- 
 nently the characteristics of reformers. And 
 while they were frequently fanatical and in- 
 tolerant, in justice to them we must bear in 
 mind that their idea of God tended to make 
 them intolerant toward all who preached 
 other than what they believed to be the 
 saving truth, and the spirit of their age 
 favored persecution. It was a period of 
 brutality, which was soon to pass into a night 
 of such merciless savagery as has seldom 
 been equalled in the history of man's ascent. 
 
OF ITS LEADING SPIRITS. 41 
 
 The exhibition of the spirit of intolerance to- 
 day cannot be excused or condoned ; but it 
 would be manifestly unjust to judge the 
 great souls of the century of Sir Thomas 
 More by the standards of the present. And 
 aside from their fanaticism, and the intoler- 
 ance which was so largely due to their low 
 idea of God, they were noble figures tower- 
 ing above the popular exemplars of the re- 
 ligious thought of their age. They were 
 men wlio believed they were right, who 
 had the courage of their convictions, and 
 who sought to make the world purer and 
 better. 
 
in.— A GENERAL SURVEY OF THE ITAL- 
 IAN PENINSULA DURING THE RENAIS- 
 SANCE. 
 
 The centuries preoeding the Italian Renaissance— The fall of Con- 
 stantinople — Venice— Florence — Milan — How these three re- 
 publics were overthrown by the fiction of birth, the cunning 
 of wealth, and the sword of force— The secularization of the 
 Roman Church during this period— The menace of a union of 
 church and state— Emllio Castelar comments on the church 
 of this period — The bewildering spectacle of the beauty and 
 shame, of gayety and tragedy, which characterized the Italian 
 Peninsula — The iuadequacy of the educational system of the 
 past— The new educational ideals of our time and their promise. 
 
 The Italy o£ the century of More presents 
 many striking and incongruous phenomena, 
 in order to intelligently comprehend which 
 it is necessary that we keep in mind the cent- 
 uries immediately preceding the Renais- 
 sance ; centuries in which the human mind 
 had been darkened by superstition and 
 dwarfed by dogna§, ; centuries in which re- 
 ligion made the pious believe that danger 
 lurked in beauty's cup, and that pleasures 
 which did not spring from theology lured to 
 
 death ; that ignorance and credulity were 
 
 42 
 
ITALY DURING THE RENAISSANCE. 43 
 
 evidences of faith most pleasing to the God 
 who had given man a searching spirit and 
 doubting mind, and that scepticism merited 
 torture and death. "During the Middle 
 Ages man had lived enveloped in a cowl. 
 He had not seen the beauty of the world, or 
 seen it only to cross himself and turn aside 
 to tell his beads and pray. Like St. Ber- 
 nard, travelling along the shores of Lake Le- 
 man and noticing neither the azure of the 
 waters, nor the luxuriance of the vines, nor 
 the radiance of the mountains, with their 
 robe of sun and snow, but bending a thought- 
 burdened forehead over the neck of his mule 
 — even like this monk, humanity had passed, 
 a careful pilgrim, intent on the terrors of 
 sin, death and judgment, along the high- 
 ways of the world, and had scarcely known 
 that they were sight-worthy or that life was 
 a blessing." * 
 
 The long night of superstition which en- 
 tombed reason, exiled science and slew the 
 prophets of progress was so markedly charac- 
 terized by an absolute fealty to reUgious 
 
 * John Addington Symonds, in " History of the Renaissance in 
 Italy." 
 
44 THE ITALIAN PENINSULA 
 
 dogma, no matter how absurd, and a blindfan- 
 aticistn in regard to the letter of theological 
 law, that one wonders at the greatness which 
 remained in man to make a freer day resplen- 
 dent with triumphs of genius in literature, 
 science and art. 
 
 The Italy of this century had behind it 
 the long and sanguinaiy struggles of the com- 
 munes, followed by the darker though more 
 picturesque period, when petty tyrants ruled 
 and the people had grown so sodden that 
 they had in a degree lost the old-time passion 
 for liberty, and with it the power to discrim- 
 inate between a name and the soul for which 
 the name was the symbol. They had yielded 
 inch by inch to oppression clothed in the 
 mantle of a vanished popular liberty, until 
 an absolute despotism, which still bore the 
 name of free government, was tolerated in 
 more than one of the states of Italy. 
 
 At the moment when the news of the fall 
 of Constantinople struck terror to the various 
 Italian states, no less than to the papal see, 
 Italy was the victim of numerous petty des- 
 pots whose histories were not infrequently a 
 catalogue of crimes — men of power, gifted 
 
DURING THE BENAISSANCE. 45 
 
 in intrigue, of indomitable will, intrepid in 
 war, genial and affable among friends, but 
 merciless toward enemies, and as treach- 
 erous as they were courageous. The wars 
 of petty tyrants and despots, the larger 
 struggle of tiie party of the Roman Empire 
 against the party ai the Roman Church, lust 
 for power mingled with lust for gold, and 
 over all the pall of superstition which con- 
 demned' the free-thinker and philosopher, 
 but permitted the grossest immorality to 
 pass unchallenged — such were some of the 
 phenomena presented by the Italy of the 
 Middle Ages, such were the precursors of the 
 Renaissance on this peninsula. 
 
 The political history of Italy during the 
 early years of the century following the fall 
 of Constantinople in 1453 * presents one of 
 
 * Many eminent historians place 1453 as the year which marked 
 the close of the Middle Ages and the commencement of what we 
 term Modern Times, as this year witnessed the fall of Constanti- 
 nople and the diffusion of the Greek scholars of the East throughout 
 Italy, and it also witnessed the end of the hundred years^ war be- 
 tween France and England. The knell of the era of feudalism had 
 sounded, the dawn of centralized government had opened ; central- 
 ized government, which though despotic was to prove the pre- 
 cursor of a representative government, and under the expand- 
 ing light of freedom and knowledge to bloom one day into some- 
 thing the world has not yet seen — a social democracy or a true re- 
 public. 
 
46 THE ITALIAN PENINSULA 
 
 -J the most anomalous spectacles in the annals 
 of civilization. A mad ambition, as short- 
 sighted as it was selfish, permeated the pen- 
 insula, which at this time was divided into 
 numerous states, united by customs, habits 
 of thought, and, to a certain degree, by 
 language, but separatedby a deadly jealousy. 
 Venice, opulent and independent, with its 
 unique government, was the object of envy 
 throughout Italy. Florence, holding still 
 to. the shell of a republic, was the slave of 
 the shrewd banker and diplomat, Cosmo de' 
 Medici. Milan was governed by a duke, 
 and Naples by a king ; but it mattered not 
 whether the state was an alleged republic, 
 a ducal dominion or a kingdom, despotism 
 prevailed everywhere. The old-time free- 
 dom was lost. The people had lost courage. 
 The political eclipse of the peninsula was at 
 hand. Perhaps we can best gain a clear in- 
 sight into political conditions by briefly notic- 
 ing some of the Italian states of this period. 
 In Venice we find an oligarchy springing 
 from an hereditary aristocracy, which had 
 gradually supplanted a republic, but which 
 shrewdly held to the popular name of re- 
 
DURING THE RENAISSANCE. 47 
 
 public. It is a long, sad story, the destruc- 
 tion of free government and the establishment 
 of a hereditary aristocracy, the narrowing of 
 the power of the privileged rulers, the estab- 
 lishment of the council of ten, the crushing 
 of opposition by aid of hired informers, and 
 lastly the creation of the three inquisitors of 
 the state. In discussing this last mentioned 
 body, an eminent historian observes : " They 
 could, without giving account of their de- 
 cision, pronounce sentence of death and 
 dispose of public funds. Justly the ambition 
 of these men was feared. Two of the in- 
 quisitors of the state, with the approval of 
 the Doge, could condemn the third. The 
 three inquisitors of the state had the right 
 of making their own statutes and of chang- 
 ing them as they pleased, so that the republic 
 was ignorant even of the law which governed 
 it." * 
 
 This government, strange as it may seem, 
 apparently prospered for a time, much as 
 did Rome under Augustus C^sar. It sought 
 to overcome dissatisfaction in two ways : it 
 destroyed those supposed to be in opposition 
 
 * Victor Duruy's " History of Modern Times," pp. 60, 61. 
 
48 THE ITALIAN PENINSULA 
 
 to the ruling power, while it assured labor 
 to the citizens of the state. But material 
 prosperity, while much, is not the chief end 
 of human life. A full stomach is Something, 
 it is true, but it means far more to a pig than 
 to a man. Work with good wages is much, 
 but if that work and material prosperity are 
 attainable only at the price of free thought, 
 they cost far too much for noble, aspiring 
 men and women ; and though Venice was in 
 one sense the envy of Italy and the wonder 
 of the world, she was canopied by a great 
 fear. Though she boasted of three thousand 
 ships and thirty thousand soldiers and was 
 noted for the " luxurious life led by the rich 
 and oftentimes by the people, the spy and 
 the informer reigned, being encouraged, paid 
 and organized, and terror hovered over every 
 head. The noble who spoke ill of the gov- 
 ernment was twice warned and for the third 
 offence he was drowned. Every workman 
 who exported any commodity useful to the 
 republic v/as stabbed. Judgment, execution, 
 all were secret. The mouth of the lion of 
 St, Mark received the anonymous denun- 
 ciations, and the waves which passed under 
 
DURING THE RENAISSANCE. 49 
 
 the Bridge of Sighs carried away the 
 corpses." * 
 
 Venice, proud, prosperous, arrogant, des- 
 potic and treacherous, was hated and feared 
 both by the Ottomans on the east and the 
 states of the Peninsula on the west. When 
 it seemed good pohcy for her to treat with 
 the Mussulman she did not scruple to break 
 the solemn treaty of Lodi, which bound the 
 states of Italy together in a mutual bond 
 against the Eastern invader, and when re- 
 proached her citizens replied, " We are 
 Venetians first and Christians second." The 
 oligarchy which ruled Venice with watchful 
 eye was jealou'S for the material prosperity of 
 the state, and from afar the so-called re- 
 public was regarded as the beau ideal of 
 government. It is well to remember, how- 
 ever, that states thus ruled have no glorious 
 to-morrow ; only where freedom is fostered, 
 where free speech and free thought are en- 
 couraged, Where a broad, sturdy, ethical, in- 
 tellectual, and industrial education is insisted 
 upon, and where the citizens of a common- 
 wealth are taught that true -safety lies in the 
 
 ♦Victor Duruy's "History of Modern Times," p. 01. 
 
50 THE ITALIAN PENINSULA 
 
 light of knowledge rather than in the dark- 
 ness of ignorance, do we find a condition 
 which fosters content, guarantees progress 
 and foretells a to-morrow more glorious than 
 any yesterday the race has known. 
 
 Turning from Venice, the opulent mis- 
 tress of the Adriatic, with her tints of 
 mother-of-pearl, with her splendid sunrises 
 and gorgeous sunsets, we come to notice 
 Florence on the banks of the Arno ; Flor- 
 ence, which had struggled so long and so 
 blindly for freedom, had finally fallen into 
 the snares of a bourgeois family, and as 
 Venice had lost her freedom through the 
 machinations of an arrogant aristocracy, so 
 Florence passed into abject slavery through 
 the subtle but settled policy of the de' Medici 
 family of bankers and traders. This re- 
 markable family won over the masses by 
 cunning devices ; its heads for successive 
 generations expended money liberally and 
 judiciously to obtain power for their house, 
 and when once the goal was won they found 
 little difficulty in ruling the republic while 
 seeming to be private citizens, until the 
 advent of Savonarola, and indeed until the 
 
DURING THE RENAISSANCE. 51 
 
 death of Lorenzo. The most illustrious 
 English historian of the Renaissance in 
 Italy thus describes the method pursued 
 by this family in retaining the power they 
 had wrested from the Florentines : " The de' 
 Medici, in effect, bought and sold the honor 
 of the public officials, lent money, jobbed 
 posts of profit and winked at peculation, 
 until they had created a sufficient body of 
 men who had everything to gain by a con- 
 tinuance of their corrupt authority." * 
 
 After Florence fell into the power of this 
 family the prospect of her becoming a stable 
 republic diminished with each successive year. 
 Her great weakness was an excessive intel- 
 lectual development without corresponding 
 moral culture; she lacked the sturdy ele- 
 ments which the G-ermany of that epoch 
 possessed, and which Norway and Sweden, 
 and to a certain extent the Russia of to-day, 
 possess. A soil in which intellectual culture 
 and artistic development flourish without 
 being accompanied by a high appreciation 
 of jusbice and a noble ideal of manhood and 
 
 * " The Renaissance in Italy ; Age of the Despots," by John 
 Addington Symonds. Pp. 230-232. 
 
52 THE ITALIAN PENINSULA 
 
 womanhood is a soil unfavorable to free 
 government, for liberty can only be main- 
 tained by a passion for freedom and justice 
 in the hearts of the people so strong that 
 the martyr spirit is awakened whenever free 
 government is imperilled. Florence lacked 
 this. She had become morally enervated. Th3 
 struggle of generations had wearied her. She 
 submitted to the rale of the de' Medici and 
 gave herself up, for a season, at least, to the 
 cultivation of the beauty of life and, be it 
 said with sadness, to the indulgence of the 
 sensual passions. From this slumber Savo- 
 narola sought to awaken her, and for a 
 time it seemed as if he had succeeded ; but 
 the poison had too thoroughly permeated 
 the public mind, and in the end the Floren- 
 tines lapsed back into the long, melancholy 
 sleep which comes upon a body from which 
 the soul has flown. 
 
 From Florence we turn to Milan, nest- 
 ling in the lap of one of the most fertile 
 plains in Italy. This unfortunate dominion 
 had been for many generations the victim 
 of the heads of the Visconti family, whose 
 lust had been exceeded only by their rapac- 
 
DURING THE BENAISSAyCE. 53 
 
 ity, and whose rapacity was eclipsed only 
 by their cruelty. Thus, for example, 
 Giovanni Maria Visconti, the last but one 
 of these despots, distinguished himself for 
 his lust and brutality. He used his hounds 
 to run down and tear to pieces all the crimi- 
 nals of Milan ; even the participators in his 
 own criminal excesses, when discovered and 
 denounced, were given up to the hounds. 
 The count, it is said, went into ecstasies of 
 delight while beholding the poor prisoners 
 being torn to pieces by the savage hounds. 
 Giovanni was succeeded by his brother 
 Filippo, and after his death, in 1447, the 
 people of Milan hastened to declare them- 
 selves in favor of a republic. Seldom has 
 history presented a more pathetic page than 
 the spectacle of Milan, after groaning under 
 the galling and degrading tyranny of the 
 Visconti family for many weary generations, 
 risina: as one man on the death of the last 
 of the tyrants of that house, and declaring 
 that henceforth Milan should be a repubhc. 
 The dream of freedom, however, was of 
 short duration; for in a war with Venice 
 the citizens of Milan had rashly called in 
 
54 THE ITALIAN PENINSULA 
 
 Francesco Sforza to aid them. This am- 
 bitious and unscrupulous soldier, after con- 
 quering the Venetians, besieged Milan. 
 The republic, although it held out bravely 
 for a time, succumbed in 1450, and Fran- 
 cesco Sforza became Duke of Milan. Sforza 
 was the son of an Italian peasant who had 
 early become a soldier of fortune. Fran- 
 cesco had followed his father's adopted 
 trade, and was a soldier of more that ordinary 
 ability ; he ruled over Milan sixteen years. 
 
 Here let us pause, for we are in the pres- 
 ence of some facts of history of special value 
 to all lovers of free government. In the 
 enslavement of Venice, Florence and Milan 
 we have striking illustrations of the three 
 agencies which have wrought the overthrow 
 of republics in all past ages. In Venice, in 
 her slow transformation from a republic to 
 a hereditary aristocracy, from which issued a 
 despotic oligarchy, we see a repetition of the 
 triumphs of the patricians in old Rome, in 
 which a class or hereditary power remorse- 
 lessly trampled upon the rights and liberties 
 oE those born into less favored homes. 
 
 In the ascendency of the de' Medici family 
 
DURING THE RENAISSANCE. 55 
 
 of Florence, we see the triumph of the 
 shrewd, calculating money lenders, who by 
 careful and cautious steps advance from 
 simple bourgeois to the mastery of one of 
 the most opulent and cultured states of the 
 age. It was the conquest of the usurer over 
 a people weary of battling for freedom, who, 
 in an unguarded hour, listened to the velvet 
 voice of professed friendship, and later per- 
 mitted themselves to be seduced by golden 
 gifts lavishly offered and pleasures provided 
 without stint. There is nothing more subtle, 
 dangerous or essentially immoral than the 
 machinations of wealth when it assails free- 
 dom ; and republics have nothing to fear so 
 much as vast accumulations in the hands of 
 the few. 
 
 The new-born republic of Milan, springing 
 from her long and odious bondage, was only 
 suffered to draw a few deep inspirations of 
 freedom ere the sword of the son of a peasant 
 slew her liberty. Thus we see (1) the fiction 
 of birth, (2) the cunning of wealth and (3) 
 the sword of savage force accomplish their 
 deadly work in destroying these three re- 
 publics ; and the significance of this lesson 
 
56 THE ITALIAN PENINSULA 
 
 is heightened when we remember that one or 
 more of these baleful influences have wrecked 
 the republics which strew the pathway of 
 history. A people who would be free must 
 never slumber, and the important facts em- 
 phasized by the fate of these republics hold a 
 peculiar interest for the patriots in our great 
 republic to-day, for the de' Medici still live 
 and Sforza is born again. 
 
 While noticing some of the political as- 
 pects of Italy, it will be necessary to consider 
 in a general way the political influence of 
 the papal see during the century f oUowing 
 the fall of Constantinople ; for during this 
 period the church reached the height of secu- 
 larization, and history records gloomy facts 
 which are pregnant with lessons for thought- 
 ful men and women. It was at this time that 
 scholarly Italians and Spaniards as skilled in 
 finesse as they were lacking in spirituality, 
 reached the papal chair by means which put 
 to blush all pretensions of purity and probity ; 
 men whose vision was canopied with ambi- 
 tious dreams of temporal power and personal 
 aggrandizement. Sixtus IV., Innocent VIII., 
 and Alexander VI. — what images do these 
 
BUSING THE BENAISSANCE. 57 
 
 names bring before the mind of the sincere 
 student, concerned only about the sober facts 
 of history, and in no way actuated by a desire 
 to cover up the gross crimes of men who 
 under the scarlet robe degraded religion and 
 brought additional reproach upon the civili- 
 zation of their time! 
 
 The history of the church during this 
 period reminds one of the Jewish church 
 when the Scribes and Pharisees brought 
 Jesus to the cross while they enlarged their 
 phylacteries and lengthened their prayers ; 
 but there is this essential difference : Judaism 
 never approached the moral degradation 
 which marked the century in which flourished 
 Sixtus IV., Innocent VIII., and Alexander 
 VI. 
 
 The baleful effects of the union of church 
 and state were probably never more vividly 
 portrayed than in the debasement of true 
 religion during this period. In referring to» 
 the shame which Christianity suffered from 
 men without any true conception of reUgion 
 who filled the papal chair, Mr. Symonds says :* 
 
 *" History of the Renaissance in Italy." By John Addingtoa 
 Symonds. Part I., " Age of the Despots," chapter vii. 
 
58 THE ITALIAN PENINSULA 
 
 " The popes acted more as monarclis than as 
 pontifEs, and the secularization of the see of 
 Rome was carried to its utmost limits. The 
 contrast between the sacerdotal pretensions 
 and the personal immorality of the popes 
 was glaring. * * * The history of Italy has 
 at all times been closely bound up with that 
 of the papacy ; but at no period has this been 
 more the case than during these eighty years 
 of papal worldliness, ambition, nepotism and 
 profligacy, which are also marked by the 
 irruption of the European nations into Italy, 
 and by the secession of the Teutonic races 
 from the Latin church. In this short space 
 of time a succession of popes filled the holy 
 chair with such dramatic propriety^display- 
 ing a pride so regal, a cynicism so unblushing, 
 so selfish a cupidity, and a policy so suicidal, 
 as to favor the belief that they had been 
 placed there in the providence of God to warn 
 the world against Babylon . Undisguised sen- 
 suality ; fraud, cynical and unabashed ; policy 
 marching to its end by murders, treasons, 
 interdicts and imprisonments ; the open sale 
 of spiritual privileges ; commercial traffic 
 in ecclesiastical emoluments ; hypocrisy and 
 
DURING THE RENAISSANCE. 59 
 
 cruelty studied as fine arts ; theft and perjury 
 reduced to system — these are the ordinary 
 scandals which beset the papacy. 
 
 " It would be possible to write the history 
 o£ these priest-kings without dwelling on 
 scandalous circumstances, to merge the 
 court chronicle of the Vatican in a recital 
 of European politics, or to hide the true 
 features of high papal dignitaries beneath 
 the masks constructed for them by ecclesias- 
 tical apologists. That cannot, however, be 
 the line adopted by a writer treating of 
 civilization in Italy during the fifteenth and 
 sixteenth centuries. He must paint the popes 
 of the Renaissance as they appeared in the 
 midst of society, when Lorenzo de' Medici 
 called Rome ' a sink of all the vices,' and 
 observers so competent as Machiavelli and 
 Guicciardini ascribed the moral depravity 
 and political decay of Italy to their influence. 
 It might be objected that there is now no need 
 to portray the profligacy of that court, which, 
 by arousing the conscience of Northern 
 Europe to a sense of intolerable shame, proved 
 one of the main causes of the Reformation. 
 But without reviewing these old scandals, a 
 
60 THE ITALIAN PENINSULA 
 
 true understanding of Italian morality and a 
 true insight into Italian social feeling as 
 expressed in literature, are alike impossi- 
 ble." 
 
 Even MachiavelH, who participated in the 
 evils of his. age, was philosophical enough to 
 see the political ruin being wrought by the 
 appalling corruption of the church, as wiU 
 be seen by the following scathing criticisms 
 in which the intellectual Italian thus sums 
 up the evil conditions of his time : " Had 
 the rehgion of Christianity been preserved 
 according to the ordinances of its founder, 
 the states and commonwealths of Christen- 
 dom would have been far more united and 
 far happier than they are. Nor is it pos- 
 sible to form a better estimate of its decay 
 than by observing that, in proportion as we 
 approach nearer to the Roman Church, the 
 head of this religion, we find less piety 
 prevail among the nations. Considering 
 the primitive constitution of that church, 
 and noting how diverse are its present cus- 
 toms, we are forced to judge that without 
 doubt either ruin or a scourge is now impend- 
 ing over it. And since some men are of 
 
DURING THE RENAISSANCE. 61 
 
 opinion that the welfare of Italy depends 
 upon the church, I wish to put forth such 
 arguments as occur to my mind to the con- 
 trary ; and of these I will adduce two, which, 
 as I think, are irrefutable. The first is this, 
 that owing to the evil ensample of the papal 
 court, Italy has lost all piety and all religion ; 
 whence follow infinite troubles and disor- 
 ders; for as religion implies all good, so 
 its absence implies the contrary. Conse- 
 quently to the church and priests of Rome 
 we Italians owe this obligation first — that 
 we have become void of religion and cor- 
 rupt." 
 
 Whenever the church and state become 
 united, one of two things follows — either re- 
 ligion is debased until it becomes a thing of 
 reproach and contempt, as during the rule 
 of the popes mentioned above ; or bigotry 
 flames forth and we have cruel persecution, 
 as in Germany under Calvin, in Spain under 
 Ferdinand and Isabella and their successors, 
 and in England under Henry VIII., Edward 
 VI., Mary, and Elizabeth. And not only 
 does persecution follow, but progress is re- 
 tarded, science is placed under ban, an- 
 
62 TEE ITALIAN PENINSULA 
 
 cient ideals are exalted over new thought, 
 and the eyes of the people are turned from 
 the dawn. 
 
 With this brief summary of some of the 
 political aspects of Italy during the Renais- 
 sance, we turn to the general conditions 
 which prevailed throughout the Italian Pe- 
 ninsula in the early years of the century com- 
 mencing with 1450. The people were weary 
 of struggles ; they longed for something 
 which might serve as a bright diversion ; 
 they hungered for something better and 
 brighter than the gloomy years behind them 
 had unfolded. And the diversion came with 
 the scholars who flocked to Italy after the 
 fall of Constantinople. Greece was redis- 
 covered. 
 
 " The gods of the ancients were reborn, 
 revealing in their frames of marble all the 
 secrets of the sculptor's art, and the works 
 of artists were burned in bonfires, stirred by 
 a population of monks in the Piazza de Fi- 
 renze. The Perugino Convent still preserved 
 the penitence and the mortifications of the 
 cloister, and the Farnese Hercules was 
 erected on Roman soil to show all the force 
 
DURING THE RENAISSANCE. 63 
 
 and power of antiquity. Ariosto wrote his 
 sensual work — in which the heroes dance as 
 in a brilliant carnival, and dream in delicate 
 language the Platonics of Florence, with 
 mysterious sentiments, with Heaven con- 
 cealed behind the sepulchre, and God hidden 
 from the world. Savonarola, that political 
 Frangois d'Assis, invokes saints and angels, 
 recommends fasting and penance, and re- 
 news the imitation of Jesus Christ. The 
 Florentine people selected for their chief the 
 Crucified, while the Romans chose Caesar 
 Borgia, handsome, but vicious and infamous, 
 a traitor, stained with the blood of his broth- 
 er and brother-in-law, which splashed his 
 forehead and that of the Pope ; degraded by 
 orgies like those of Nero, reproducing the 
 erotic delirium of Heliogabalus in conjunc- 
 tion with the slaughterings and poisonings 
 of Tiberius." * 
 
 The splendid triumphs of the Italian life 
 of this period are not found in the fields of 
 morals and religion. It is true that for a 
 time Savonarola aroused Florence, but his 
 influence was so fleeting that it serves to 
 
 * Emilio Castelar, in " Old Rome and New Italy." 
 
64 THE ITALIAN PENINSULA 
 
 emphasize, in a most startling manner, the 
 religious apathy of the Italian mind. On 
 the other hand Grecian thought quickened 
 the scholars, while for sensuous art it was 
 the most glorious day that ever had dawned 
 on earth. We must not, however, imagine 
 that man was at peace with man, that love 
 in its higher aspect ruled society, or that art 
 was the handmaid of virtue. There were 
 two sides to the civilization of Italy during 
 the Renaissance. If she clothed herself in 
 glory, beneath that glory were the rags of 
 shame. The contrasts which impress the 
 student of history, Avho from the Germany 
 of Luther turns to the Italy of Leo X., are 
 scarcely more impressive than the antitheses 
 presented by the professions and practices in 
 high Italian life. 
 
 Among the poor here, as elsewhere, igno- 
 rance and superstition prevailed. They were 
 for the most part pawns subject to the will 
 and caprice of the reigning powers ; practi- 
 cally serfs without fully reahzing it. The 
 savagery of their natures, largely due to the 
 long and bloody wars of the Guelphs and 
 Ghibellines, was expressed in brutal deeds 
 
DURING THE BENAISSANCE. 65 
 
 whenever individuals or the masses were 
 aroused. 
 
 Among the titled, wealthy and educated 
 classes conscienceless sensuality flourished 
 by the side of transcendent art. It was a 
 period of appalling moral degradation, sug- 
 gesting vividly the most vicious days under 
 the pagan emperors. Unbridled passion, 
 revolting sensuality and a refined savagery 
 — if I may use so paradoxical a term — ran 
 through the fibre of society ; while at 
 the same time poetry, belles-lettres and the 
 classics received a recognition never before 
 accorded in a Christian land. Side by side 
 with the moral eclipse which marked the 
 lives of so many of the most powerful and 
 scholarly men of this time, art flourished 
 as never before. It was a summer day for 
 poetry, sculpture, architecture and painting 
 in Italy. To the superficial observer a halo 
 of golden glory rests over the land of the 
 Csesars during this period ; the student of 
 history, however, perceives that the gold was 
 reddened with blood. Comedy and tragedy 
 went arm in arm ; the peninsula was clad 
 in beauty ; she was holding a Belshazzar's 
 5 
 
66 THE ITALIAN PENINSULA 
 
 feast, but sensuality had blinded her eyes 
 to the handwriting of destiny. 
 
 It has been observed that animal 
 organisms live by devouring others, and 
 that spiritual organisms live by aiding 
 others. This is the supreme truth of the 
 ages, the capital lesson for humanity to 
 learn. There are two phases of life — the 
 sensuous or animal, and the spiritual or 
 divine. The soul flourishes when man lives 
 for his fellow-man ; it shrivels and dies 
 when he lives for self alone, when for his 
 own gratification he tramples upon virtue 
 and justice, or destroys the happiness of 
 the humblest of his race. Now, it was on 
 this lower plane that the majority of the 
 ruling minds moved during this period, and 
 hence for the philosopher it was a tragic 
 age. 
 
 At this point it is well to note a fact 
 which illustrates most impressively the in- 
 adequacy of all educational systems in the 
 past — that art, culture and scientific prog- 
 ress frequently flourish luxuriantly when a 
 nation through moral enervation is sinking 
 into comparative insignificance from a fore- 
 
DURING THE RENAISSANCE. 67 
 
 most position in a civilization. The' con- 
 dition of immense wealth centralized in the 
 hands of a few, and those few dominating 
 the legislation of the nation, speaks of a 
 mortal disease in the body politic ; and 
 this condition is invariably accompanied by 
 blunted moral sensibilities, most apparent 
 at the zenith and nadir of society. But not 
 infrequently at this melancholy stage in a 
 nation's decline, a passion for art take^ pos- 
 session of the pubUc mind ; it becomes a 
 mania or a " fad " ; artists become the idols 
 of the very rich. Then we have a spectacle 
 ■ such as the Italy of this age presented ; a 
 spectacle that leads short-sighted people to 
 imagine that art is sensuous. This mistake 
 was made by Savonarola and the leaders of the 
 Reformation, and it served greatly to retard 
 progress along one of the most exalting 
 highways of human progress. 
 
 It is doubtless true, however, that we 
 shall never appreciate how essentially enno- 
 bling is the spirit of true art until just con- 
 ditions prevail and the wealth created by a 
 people is enjoyed by its creators, while a 
 rational educational system produces sturdy 
 
68 THE ITALIAN PENINSULA. 
 
 morality, pure ideals and ennobling aspira- 
 tions, as our present educational system 
 produces trained intellects. And it is a 
 sign at once hopeful and significant of a 
 distinct moral advance that the finest 
 natures among the younger artists, sculp- 
 tors and poets of our time begin to appre- 
 ciate the force of this truth in an intelli- 
 gent way. William Ordway Partridge, the 
 sculptor, poet and essayist, gives voice to 
 this thought in the following lines, which are 
 in striking contrast to the artistic spirit of 
 the Renaissance : 
 
 " Down with your roses into the dust ! 
 Let the lips of your song be sealed ! 
 Snatch manhood's sword from the scabbard 
 of rust, 
 And strike till this curse be healed ! 
 
 " Let us hymn no more to Apollo and Pan ! 
 What use, in tlie face of a wrong, 
 To be wasting tli,e life and the strength of a 
 man 
 In a cowardly, meaningless song ? 
 
 " We are wearing tlie linen and purple rich, 
 Made of heart, of soul, and of brain 
 Of the children who strain, and the women 
 who stitch 
 Till their eyes burn out with pain. 
 
DURING THE RENAISSANCE. 69 
 
 " Oh, down with your roses into the dust 1 
 Let the lips of your song be sealed ! 
 Awake your soul from its scabbard of rust, 
 And strike till this wrong be healed ! " 
 
 These stanzas breathe the spirit of a 
 better and a truer age as truly as the poetry 
 of Ariosto breathed the prevaihng spirit of 
 his time. Just social conditions and an edu- 
 cational system broad enough to take in 
 ethics in a vital way — these are the crying 
 needs of our day ; and there are many evi- 
 dences that glimpses of their splendid possi- 
 bilities flashed upon the mind of Sir Thomas 
 More as-he penned ^^ Utopia." 
 
IV.— SOME FATAL FIGURES OF THE 
 ITALIAN RENAISSANCE. 
 
 The Medioean family— Professor Vallari's suggestive observation- 
 How liberty was lost — Lorenzo de' Medici — The patron of art. 
 — The ruler of Florence — The slave to his own passions — The 
 Boi'gian family — Machiavelli — The man and his writings — Ob- 
 servations on the "Prince" of Machiavelli — The "Utopia" 
 of Sir Thomas More. 
 
 I WISH to notice now 
 as briefly as possible some 
 of the masterful minds 
 among the rulers, writers, ^-, ^,^ 
 and artists of this epoch, _^ 
 for in this way we shall = ' — — 
 catch the lights and shad- "" -"'*' 
 ows of those eventful J^l 
 times and be enabled to 
 appreciate in a degree the 
 atmosphere of the age. 
 The Medici and the Bor- 
 gia families among the rulers, Machiavelli 
 among the writers of great intellectual 
 power, and Cellini among the artists, afford 
 
 us illustrations of the darker side of life, as 
 70 
 
 Maohtavelli. 
 
FATAL FIGURES OF THE BENAISSANCE. 71 
 
 Michael Angelo, Raphael, Da Vinci, and Cor- 
 reggio reveal the artistic triumphs of that 
 age. 
 
 The history of the Medici family is exceed- 
 ingly suggestive, because it illustrates the 
 manner in which the usurer class and the 
 acquirers of wealth subvert liberty, trample 
 upon justice and, while maintaining the shell 
 and name of free institutions, exercise a des- 
 potism as baleful in its influence over the 
 masses as it is progressive in its character ; 
 a despotism which subtly advances step by 
 step, through controlling the opinion-forming 
 organs of society, and later by controlling 
 legislation from behind the scenes, until the 
 wealth-producers of a city, nation or civiliza- 
 tion become in reality, though not in name, 
 the bond slaves of the acquirers and ma- 
 nipulators of unearned wealth. So important 
 is this truth and so vividly is it illustrated in 
 the history of the Medici family that I shall 
 quote somewhat at length from the learned 
 Professor Vallari oi the Royal Institute of 
 Florence in his admirable paper on the house 
 of the Medici in the Encyclopaedia Britan- 
 nica. In discussing this family Professor 
 
72 SOME FATAL FIGURES 
 
 Vallai'i describes " the subtle policy that was 
 persistently pursued from generation to gen- 
 eration," and shows how Giovanni de' Medici 
 apparently " took little part in political 
 aft'airs, but realized an immense fortune by 
 establishing banks in Italy and abroad, which, 
 in his successor's hands [Cosimo de' Medici] 
 became the most efficient engine of political 
 power." Of Cosimo de' Medici, our author 
 says : 
 
 " He succeeded in solving the strange prob- 
 lem of becoming absolute ruler of a republic 
 that was keenly jealous of its liberty, without 
 holding any fixed office, without suppressing 
 any previous form of government and always 
 preserving the appearance and form of a 
 private citizen." 
 
 The Medici were thrifty ; they had subtly 
 conquered the people, before the masses real- 
 ized that they were slaves, by a lavish ex- 
 penditure of gold ; but no sooner was power 
 theirs than they made it tell in replenishing 
 their exchequer. The policy of Cosimo was 
 so like the methods which have been em- 
 ployed during the past generation by the 
 money power in our land, that it should serve 
 
OF THE ITALIAN liENAISSANCE. 73 
 
 as a timely warning to all who love freedom 
 and justice more than selfish gain or personal 
 aggrandizement, inspiring them to the con- 
 secration of life's best energies in a ceaseless 
 combat against a power which more than 
 once has slain liberty, degraded manhood to 
 slavery, and ultimately destroyed national 
 life. In speaking of the artful methods of 
 Cosimo, Professor Vallari observes : 
 
 " He was generous in lending and even giv- 
 ing money whenever he could gain popularity 
 by that means. At critical moments he fre- 
 quently came to the succor of the govern- 
 ment itself. He was very dextrous in turn- 
 ing his private liberality to account for the 
 increase of his political privileges, and showed 
 no less acumen and fewer scruples in making 
 use of his political prestige for pecuniary 
 profit. Indeed, whenever his own interests 
 were at stake he showed himself capable of 
 political villainy, although this was always 
 tempered by calculation. * * * He had com- 
 prehended that the art of politics depended 
 rather upon individuals than institutions, and 
 that he who ruled men could also dictate 
 laws." 
 
74 SOME FATAL FIGURES 
 
 Lorenzo de' Medici pursued the same policy 
 as his father, although he felt less necessity 
 for employing the same degree of caution, 
 as the public conscience was being rapidly 
 lulled to sleep. He was more lavish in the 
 expenditure of money than his father, while 
 he was not nearly so shrewd a business man ; 
 consequently he was sometimes driven " to 
 help himself from the public purse." At 
 length he succeeded in becoming " complete 
 master of Florence." And our author con- 
 tinues : 
 
 " Florence was still called a republic ; the 
 old institutions were still preserved, if only 
 in name. Lorenzo was absolute lord of all 
 and virtually a tyrant. * * * The more op- 
 pressive his government the more did he 
 seek to incite the public to festivities, and 
 lull it to slumber by sensual enjoyment. His 
 immorality was scandalous. He kept an 
 army of spies and meddled with the citizens' 
 most private affairs." 
 
 No one reading Professor Vallari's mas- 
 terly paper will fail to be impressed with the 
 striking similarity in the action pursued by 
 the Medicean family and the usurer class of 
 
OF THE ITALIAN RENAISSANCE. 75 
 
 our time. And as Florence ceased to be a 
 republic without losing- her republican form 
 of government, so our nation is threatened 
 with a similar fate. 
 
 Lorenzo de' Medici occupies so large a 
 place in the history of Italy during the cent- 
 ury we are considering that he calls for more 
 than a passing notice. A closer view of the, 
 man and his methods will enable us to un- 
 derstand how without the aid of great daily 
 papers to fashion the unthinking public mind 
 he succeeded in deluding the people into 
 imagining that an absolute despotism was a 
 republic so long as the shell of her institu- 
 tions was preserved. His palace was the 
 meeting-place for beauty and culture. Its 
 gardens and festal boards welcomed the fore- 
 most scholars and men of genius of the age. 
 Here Poliziano was welcomed — Poliziano, 
 who became the representative of the highest 
 attainment in the scholarship of his age and 
 country. Here, too, appeared Pico della Mi- 
 randola, who became the greatest mystic of 
 his time ; a man whose later life was singu- 
 larly pure, and who brought the energies of 
 his brilliant intellect to the work of harmo- 
 
76 SOME FATAL FIGURES 
 
 nizingf the Christian and classical traditions. 
 Of Pico it has been observed that, having 
 conceived the "great idea of the unity of 
 knowledge, he sought to seize the soul of 
 truth which animates all systems." Here 
 the eminent architect and sculptor, Leo Bat- 
 tista Alberti, conversed with the polished 
 scholar Landino. And here, also, Michael 
 Angelo first wielded his chisel. Indeed, An- 
 gelo owed much to Lorenzo, for while the 
 young sculptor in following the strong bent 
 of his mind met with the strenuous opposi- 
 tion of his father and the intense jealousy of 
 his tutor, the prince took him into his family 
 and treated him much as a son. 
 
 It is safe to say that had it not been for 
 Lorenzo de' Medici Europe would not have 
 received the sudden intellectual impetus 
 which followed the focussing of Eastern 
 scholarship in Florence. His patronage of 
 letters and art made scholarship and the fine 
 arts popular, and stimulated intellectual ac- 
 tivity and artistic impulse in a very marked 
 degree among the young, while his liberality 
 to master minds enabled men of srenius to 
 give forth the best from the storehouse of 
 
OF THE ITALIAN ' REN AISSANCE. 77 
 
 their brains. Thus mUch can be fairly said 
 to the credit of Lorenzo de' Medici, and it is a 
 genuine pleasure to be able to give a bright 
 side to so fatal a figure without veneering 
 his crimes or ignoring his grave faults. He 
 was, moreover, a finished writer of prose and 
 a poet of more than ordinary po>ver. 
 
 But his influence on public and private 
 morals was baleful in the extreme, because he 
 lived on the sensual plane. He was master 
 of Florence, but the slave of his passions. 
 His life was scandalously immoral. Nor was 
 he satisfied with slaying virtue to glut his 
 lust in order to secure for himself what he 
 conceived to be pleasure ; he composed car- 
 nival and dance songs reeking with revolting 
 obscenity, which he sang on the streets and 
 amid the populace of Florence, thereby 
 poisoning many minds with vile images, and 
 giving vice the sanction of culture and power. 
 
 Of late Lorenzo has found eulogists, who 
 have tried to apologize for and gloss over his 
 flagrant faults ; this is as sad as it is signifi- 
 cant. It indicates that not only authors but 
 a reading public are willing to condone, 
 in the powerful and learned, evils which 
 
78 SOME FATAL FIGURES 
 
 destroy manhood and undermine civiliza- 
 tion. 
 
 The Borgias afford another illustration of 
 the eclipse of conscience in individuals who 
 were fine scholars and patrons of art. They, 
 for a time, wielded great power. Roderigo 
 Borgia, who on his election to the papal 
 chair took the title of Alexander VI., has 
 been frequently termed " the worst of the 
 popes," but the way for his excesses had been 
 prepared by the godless and vicious rule of 
 Sixtus IV., and the weaker but scarcely less 
 revolting pontificate of Innocent VIII.* 
 
 * Of these two popes Mr. Symonds say3 : " Having bribed the most 
 venal members of the Sacred College, Francesco del' a Rovcre was 
 elected pope, and assumed the name of Sixtus IV. He bCi::an his 
 career with a lie : for though he succeeded to the avaricious Paul, 
 who had spent his time in amassing money which he did not use, he 
 declared that he had only found five thousand florins in the papal 
 treasury. This assertion was proved false by the prodigality with 
 which he lavished wealth immediately upon hie nephews. It is dif- 
 flcult even to hint at the horrible auspicions -i/hich were cast upon 
 the -birth of 'two of the pope's nephews und upon the natttre of his 
 weakness for them. Yet the private life of Sixtus rendered the 
 most monstrous stories plausible, while his public treatment of these 
 men recalled to mind the partiality of Nero for Doryphorus. . . .But 
 Christendom beheld in Sixtus not merely the spectacle of a pope 
 who trafficked in the bodies of his subjects and the holy things of 
 God, but one who also squandered basely gotten gold upon aban- 
 doned minions. The peace of Italy was destroyed by desolating wars 
 in the advancement of the same worthless favorites. Sixtus desired 
 to annex Ferrara to the dominions of Girolamo Riario. Nothing 
 stood in his way but the house of Este, firmly planted for centuries, 
 and connected by marriage or alliance with all the chief families of 
 Italy. The pope, whose lust for blood and broils was only equalled 
 
OF THE ITALIAN RENAISSANCE, 79 
 
 The most eminent of Italican historians * 
 thus characterizes Alexander VI. : 
 
 " He combined craft with a singular sa- 
 gacity, a sound judgment with extraordinary 
 powers of persuasion, and to all the grave 
 affairs of life he applied ability and pains 
 beyond belief ; but these qualities were far 
 surpassed by vice, private habits of the 
 utmost obscenity, no shame, no sense of truth, 
 no fidelity to his engagements, no religious 
 sentiment, insatiable avarice, unbridled am- 
 bition, cruelty beyond the cruelty of bar- 
 barous races. He was the most sensual 
 
 by hi:; avarice and his libertinism, rushed with wild delight into a 
 project which involved the discord of the whole Peninsula. He 
 made treaties with Venice and unmade them, stirred up all the pas- 
 sions of the despots and set them together by the ears, called the 
 Swiss mercenaries into Lombardy, and when, finally, tired of fight- 
 ing for his nephew, the Italian powers concluded the peace of Bag- 
 nolo, he died of rage in 1484, The pope did actually die of disap- 
 pointed fury because peace had beeu restored to the country he had 
 mangled for the sake of a favorite nephew. . . . Another peculi- 
 arity in'the pontificate of Sixtus deserves especial mention. It was 
 under his auspices, in the year 1478, that the Inquisition was founded 
 in Spain for the extermination of Jews, Moors and Christians with 
 a taint of heresy. 
 
 " Of Innocent's pontificGto littlo need be said. He was the first 
 pope publicly to acknowledge his seven children, and to call them 
 sons and daughters. Avarice, venality, sloth and the ascendency of 
 base favorites made his reign loathsome, without the blaze and 
 splendor of the scandals of his fiery predecessor. In corruption he 
 advanced a step even beyond Sixtus, by establishing a bank at Rome 
 for the sale of pardons. Each sin had its price, which might be 
 paid at the convenience of the criminal." 
 * Guicciardini. 
 
80 SOME FATAL FIGURES. 
 
 toward both sexes, keeping publicly women 
 and boys, but more especially toward 
 women." 
 
 The life of this pontifE affords another 
 vivid picture of the dark side of high Italian 
 life during the century of which we write.* 
 
 Passinaf from Alexander VI., we come to 
 notice his son. Cesare was daring, unscrupu- 
 lous and vicious. He lived in reckless aban- 
 don, a slave of lust and personal ambition. 
 He was learned and a patron of art, kind and 
 considerate to those who obeyed him, but 
 treacherous and merciless toward his enemies. 
 After the storming of Sinigaglia, toward 
 the close of 1502, he ruthlessly slaughtered 
 the prisoners, including several princes. The 
 number of assassinations and sudden deaths 
 
 * The toleration of such a pontiff for a day is in itself a startling 
 illustration of the possible degradation of religion when church and 
 state are united. Victor Duruy, in his " History of Modern Times " 
 (p. 65), thus describes Alexander VI, and his son Cesare : ^'His 
 election was disgraced by the m ost flagrant simony, his pontificate by 
 debauchery, cruelty and perfidy. He was not deficient, however, in 
 skill and penetration. He excelled in council, and knew how to con- 
 duct important affairs with marvellous address and activity. It is 
 true he always played with his word, but the Italy of that day held 
 integrity and good in exceedingly small esteem. Cesare Borgia was 
 handsome, educated and brave, but corrupt and evil, persuading 
 everything he wished by the enchantment of his speech. He used 
 hardly any weapon except lying, poison and the dagger. He med- 
 itated his blows calmly, took his time, and acted in silence ; no crime 
 was repugnant to him." 
 
OF THE ITALIAN liENAISSANCE. 81 
 
 by poison attributed to Cesare and his father 
 were probably exaggerated, but the general 
 credence given to the charges indicates the 
 popular estimate in which the Borgias were 
 held. Of Lucretia, it is fair to say she has 
 doubtless suffered, as one writer suggests, 
 vicariously, there being little evidence that 
 she was guilty of the poisonings and other 
 monstrous crimes attributed to her. 
 
 Another notable character in the shifting 
 scenes of this age was Machiavelli, who in 
 his great work, " The Prince," takes Cesare 
 Borgia as his model. Machiavelli was one 
 of the most brilliant minds of this wonder- 
 ful era. His keen intellectual penetration 
 v/as as remarkable as was his contempt for 
 the fundamentals of morality. Like Lorenzo 
 de' Medici he has found many apologists ; 
 but if anything further than the facts that 
 he held up Cesare Borgia as an ideal prince, 
 that he fawned at the feet of the Medici, and 
 instilled the most diabolical philosophy into 
 the minds of those unscrupulous and corrupt 
 tyrants, is needed to disillusionize those who 
 have been led to admire him, we have only to 
 read his letters to Vettori. They describe 
 
82 SOME FATAL FIGURES 
 
 among other things the vulgar dissipation and 
 low intriorues of the author with a realism 
 which cannot fail to disgust all high-minded 
 men and women, and confirm the opinion sug- 
 gested by his other writings, that in his 
 personal life as well as his habits of thought, 
 he never took morality or good conduct into 
 account, which is equivalent to saying that 
 his magnificent mental powers failed to lift 
 him above the animal plane in thought and 
 conception. I do not think that any one 
 who, after reading the writings of Machia- 
 velli's apologists, will turn to the " Age of 
 Despots " and patiently follow the most bril- 
 liant and painstaking English historian of 
 the Italian Renaissance, will fail to reach the 
 conclusion arrived at by Mr. Symonds. 
 
 •Machiavelli represents a type present in 
 all ages, but whose influence is most pro- 
 nounced in a state of society which is sink- 
 ing into insignificance through triumphant 
 animahsm. He and Benvenuto Cellini * are 
 
 * Cellini was the greatest goldsmith of his age, an engraver and 
 statuary of the first rank. He was, however, a reflector of his age 
 rather than an original genius, and his mind seemed thoroughly de- 
 void of ethical impulses, although he was an emotional religionist, 
 and seemed to imagine that God was specially favoring him, even 
 when thrusting the stiletto into the back of a foe. Cellini's history 
 
OF THE ITALIAN RENAISSANCE. 83 
 
 striking examples of gifted minds without 
 sufficient moral strength to lift them above 
 the plane of sensuous life. Characters so 
 paradoxical remind one of bodies without 
 souls. They may be endowed with brilliant 
 intellects, as was Machiavelli ; they may 
 possess rare artistic skill, as did Cellini ; but 
 their gifts, lacking the virility imparted by 
 the presence of conscience, fail to raise them 
 above the sensuous plane of those who live 
 merely for self. This was quite marked in 
 the life and writings of Machiavelli. To 
 understand men of this character it is im- 
 portant that we bear in mind the fact that 
 their view of life and its ends, in so far as 
 they stop to philosophize, is diametrically 
 opposed to that entertained by men and 
 women of conscience and conviction. Thus, 
 
 of his own life is one of the most amazing autobiographies extant ; 
 he records assassination, murder, and indulgence in the vices of the 
 day without a shadow of compunction, and, indeed, seems to think 
 that Providence was with him in his disgraceful and criminal acts. 
 In many respects his life reminds one of the " Three Musketeers " 
 of Dumas, with this exception, Cellini never hesitates to resort to 
 assassination and other acts of an infamous character, which Dumas 
 makes intensely foreign to the character of his heroes. Cellini re- 
 fleeted the intellectual ability, the versatility and the vices of his 
 age ; he was unmoved by lofty genius, and religion in its true sense 
 was a stranger to him, notwithstanding his ardent acceptation of the 
 letter of dogmatic theology. His masterpiece was the bronze statue 
 of Perseus, in Florence. 
 
84 SOME FATAL FIGURES 
 
 with Machiavelli, as Mr. Sjrmonds so graph- 
 ically points out : 
 
 " The ethics of this profound anatomist of 
 human motives were based upon a convic- 
 tion that men were altogether had. The 
 abrupt division of the realms of ethics and 
 politics which he attempted was monstrous. 
 Prom first to last he held to the proposition 
 that the only permanent agencies in the 
 government of man are calculating ability, 
 resolution and the might of physical force. 
 Ethics found no place in his political 
 economy." 
 
 Nobleness, high-mindedness, honor, convic- 
 tions of right — these were foreign to his 
 political scheme. He was a timeserver, and 
 though endowed with intellectual brillianay 
 and a penetration equalled by few scholars 
 of his century, these failed him in his efforts 
 to rise to the pedestal from which he had 
 fallen, notwithstanding the ignoble means by 
 which he sought to rise, or rather because of 
 this unworthy conduct. " His intellectual 
 ability was untempered by political consist- 
 ency or moral elevation." Thus when fate 
 threw him in a position where his peculiar 
 
OF THE ITALIAN BENAISSANCE. 85 
 
 ability enabled him to satisfy the require- 
 ments o£ the Republic of Florence, he ful- 
 filled his duties in a manner highly satisfac- 
 tory to the temper and spirit of the age. But 
 when the Medici returned to power, and 
 Machiavelli found himself disgraced and com- 
 pelled to live in a frugal manner on his farm, 
 he manifested the spirit of sycophancy which 
 it would be impossible for a true patriot or a 
 man of conscience to display. He fawned 
 like a spaniel at the feet of his old enemies, 
 the enslavers of Florence, as will be seen 
 from the following -quotation from a letter 
 written by Machiavelli to Vettori, " ten 
 months after he liad been imprisoned and 
 tortured by the Medici, and thirteen months 
 after the republic he had served so long had 
 been enslaved by the princes before whom 
 he was now cringing " : , 
 
 " I have talked with Filippo Casavecchi 
 about this little work of mine, whether I 
 ought to present it or not ; and if so, whether 
 I ought to send or take it myself to hiru. I 
 was induced to doubt about presenting it 
 at all by the fear lest Giuliano should not 
 even read it, and that this Ardinghelli should 
 
86 SOME FATAL FIGURES 
 
 profit by my latest labors. On the other 
 hand, I am prompted to present it by the 
 necessity which pursues me, seeing that I am 
 consuming myself in idleness, and I cannot 
 continue long in this way without becoming 
 contemptible through poverty. I wish these 
 Signori lledici would begin to make some 
 use of me, if it were only to set me to the 
 work of rolling a stone. If I did not win 
 them over to me afterwards, I should only 
 complain of myself. As for my book, if 
 they read it, they would perceive that the 
 fifteen years I have spent in studying state- 
 craft have not been wasted in sleep or play ; 
 and everybody ought to be glad to make use 
 of a man who has so filled himself with ex- 
 perience at the expense of others. About 
 my fidelity they ought not to doubt. Hav- 
 ing always kept faith, I am not going to 
 learn to break it now. A man who has been 
 loyal and good for forty-three years, like me, 
 is not likely to change his nature ; and of 
 my loyalty and goodness my poverty is suf- 
 ficient witness to them." 
 
 A further insight into the character 
 of Machiavelli is obtained from the dedi- 
 
OF THE ITALIAN RENAISSANCE. 87 
 
 cation of " The Prince," which runs as 
 follows : 
 
 " Niccolo Machiavelli to the Magnificent 
 Lorenzo, son of Pietro de' Medici : Desiring 
 to present myself to your magnificence with 
 some proof of my devotion, I have not found 
 among my various furniture aught that I 
 prize more than the knowledge of the actions 
 of great men acquired by me throiTgh a long 
 experience of modern affairs and a continual 
 study of ancient. These I have long and 
 diligently revolved and examined in my 
 mind, and have now compressed into a little 
 book which I send to your magnificence. 
 And though I judge this work unworthy of 
 your presence, yet I am confident that your 
 humanity will cause you to value it when 
 you consider that I could not make you a 
 greater gift than this of enabling you in a 
 few hours to understand what I have learned 
 through perils and discomforts in a lengthy 
 course of years." 
 
 In the volume referred to it will be re- 
 membered that he argues that the prince or 
 tyrant should rule men "by caressing, or 
 crushing." The idea of "doing right be- 
 
88 SOME FATAL FIGURES 
 
 cause right is right, in scorn of conse- 
 quences," was something which might have 
 called forth the smile of contempt, but could 
 never enter into the philosophy, of a man 
 who lived on Machiavelli's plane of life and 
 who had been schooled in the Italian politics 
 of the Renaissance. Perhaps we cannot better 
 obtain a glimpse of the intellectual atmos- 
 phere which brought forth the thought of 
 Machiavelli than by noting one of his sen- 
 tences : 
 
 " It is not necessary that a prince should be 
 merciful, loyal, humane, religious,- just; nay, 
 I will venture to say that, if he had all these 
 qualities and always used them, they would 
 harm him. But he must seem to have them, 
 especially if he be new in his principality, 
 where he will find it quite impossible to 
 exercise these virtues, since in order to 
 maintain his power he will be often obliged to 
 act contrary to humanity, charity, religion." 
 
 As before observed, in this book addressed 
 to the reigning jjrince of a family who had 
 more than once enslaved Florence, Machia- 
 velli holds up as a model Cesare Borgia, the 
 despot whose name is the synonym for igno- 
 
OF THE ITALIAN BENAISSANCE. 89 
 
 miny, the ruthless prince who won by force 
 and fraud, whose dissimulation was only 
 matched by his cruelty. And it must be 
 remembered that this work was not written 
 for the general public ; it was a treatise, or 
 handbook, by which the prince to whom it 
 was addressed might crush freedom and set 
 aside law. All through the work we see the 
 pernicious doctrine of " the end justifying 
 the means " ; he praises Cesar e Borgia's 
 perfidy, as we would extol the patriotism of 
 Washington. It is a volume of remarkable 
 strength, and well illustrates how a most 
 brilliant intellect may be completely destitute 
 of high-mindedness. 
 
 It is only fair to observe, however, that 
 Machiavelli in " The Prince " reflected the 
 political ideals of his age rather than created 
 an original work. He was an historian be- 
 fore he was a philosopher. He was a close 
 observer, and knew how to generalize as well 
 as speciaUze. His treatise, intended for the 
 private perusal of a Medicean prince, illus- 
 trates how readily a man without moral poise 
 may turn from the service of liberty to that 
 of tyranny. The cause of the republic which 
 
90 SOME FATAL FIGURES 
 
 had honored him possessed no interest for 
 him when he hoped his lot might be bettered 
 by his becoming the wiUing tool of absolut- 
 ism, and his " Prince " shows that he was 
 quite as ready to bring the wealth of his in- 
 tellect to the cause of despotism as he would 
 have been to continue to serve the republic. 
 His personal aggrandize tnent and selfish 
 comfort outweighed all other considerations. 
 
 The real purpose of MachiavelH in writing 
 the political masterpiece is in my judgment 
 most admirably set forth by Mr. Symonds 
 in this concise characterization of " The 
 Prince " : 
 
 " MachiavelH was the first in modern times 
 to formulate a theory of government in 
 which the interests of the ruler are alone re- 
 garded, which assumes a separation between 
 statecraft and morality, which recognizes 
 force and fraud among the legitimate means 
 of attaining high political ends, which makes 
 success alone the test of conduct, and which 
 presupposes the corruption, venality and 
 baseness of mankind at large. 
 
 " In the ' Principe ' it was not his purpose 
 to write a treatise of moraUty, but to set 
 
OF THE ITALIAN RENAlSSAyCE. 91 
 
 forth with scientific accuracy the arts which 
 he considered necessary to the success of an 
 absolute ruler. We may, therefore, accept 
 this essay as the most profound and lucid ex- 
 position of the principles by which Italian 
 statesmen were guided in the sixteenth 
 century." 
 
 The pages of history afEord few more 
 impressive illustrations of the hopelessness 
 of a character in which motives of self-in- 
 terest instead of conscience form the main- 
 spring of action. Such characters are never 
 safe — the ring of artificiality sounds in their 
 every deed. And what is true of an indi- 
 vidual is true of a state, as the Italy which 
 Machiavelli so vividly reflected bears wit- 
 ness. Sincerity, justice, morality and in- 
 tegrity are the only sound foundations for 
 human character or human society, and 
 whenever a life or a nation attempts to 
 build on other foundations, that individual 
 or state becomes a curse to civilization. 
 
 Many people seem to overlook the fact 
 that Machiavelli's " Prince " was not written 
 for the public. It was intended only for 
 the eyes of the ambitious prince, who might 
 
92 SOME FA TAL FIG USES. 
 
 avail himself of the services of so conscience- 
 less and astute a politician as could com- 
 pose such a work. And it was not pub- 
 lished until 1532 — after the death of Machi- 
 avelli. 
 
 I have dwelt at length on Machiavelli and 
 his most important political work because 
 he stands out in so bold contrast to 
 another great thinker and writer who, at 
 the time when .intellectual Italy was trying 
 to get the Medici to read the " Prince," was 
 writing a work which also treated of the 
 philosophy of human government, but which 
 was as unlike " The Prince " of Machiavelli 
 as a dove is unlike a serpent. The " Utopia " 
 of Sir Thomas More was as diametrically 
 opposed to " The Prince " as light is 
 opposed to darkness. They were born of 
 different thought-worlds — one was the child 
 of darkness, the other the first-born of the 
 dawn ; one was the offspring of egoism, 
 its range of vision never above the level of 
 intellectual animalism, the other was the 
 flower of a prophet's inspiration, the acorn 
 from which the true social democracy shall 
 one day spring. 
 
OF THE ITALIAN RENAISSANCE. 93 
 
 " The Prince," which Machiavelli held up 
 as a model, miscarried in its design ; Machia- 
 velli, notwithstanding his timeserving policy, 
 failed only less signally than did Cesare 
 Borgia. The " Utopia " of More, though 
 born far too early to blossom in the century 
 which marked the tragic death of its author, 
 has been a beacon and an inspiration to 
 noble souls since the day it was published. 
 Machiavelli finished " The Prince " in the 
 latter part of 1413. Sir Thomas More pub- 
 lished his " Utopia " in Flanders in 1416. 
 It is a remarkable fact that these two con- 
 crete expressions, one of the fatal philosophy 
 of serfdom in human government, and the 
 other of the redemptive social science of 
 altruism, should have leaped almost simul- 
 taneously from the thought- worlds of two 
 great intellects. 
 
v.— SOME BRIGHT LIGHTS OF THE 
 ITALIAN RENAISSANCE. 
 
 Michael Angelo— A character sketch of the Jupiter of art's 
 Olympus — The influence of Savonarola's sermons and Dante's 
 poems on Angelo's work — Tho austere and colossal character 
 of his ideals — His deeply religious character — A pen picture 
 of Leonardo Da Vinci, the most versatile of the great geniuses 
 of this period — Correggio, the Christian painter who was 
 " unconsciously a heathen " — His great work — Baphael Sanzio, 
 the most illustrious of painters— A child of the dawn— Com- 
 parison hetween Angelo and Raphael — The wonderful power 
 of the youthful artist only equalled by his untiring in- 
 dustry — His early death — A brief characterization of the 
 man and his work. 
 
 A REALIST of the 
 taste and power of 
 Zola might have 
 given us a picture 
 of high ItaUan life 
 during the Renais- 
 sance, which, though 
 absolutely faithful in 
 its portrayal, would 
 have been too revolt- 
 ing for perusal; while, 
 on the other hand, 
 an idealist who reso- 
 lutely closed his eyes 
 
 Michael Anselo. 
 
 94 
 
BRIGHT LIGHTS OF THE RENAISSANCE. 95 
 
 to the criminality and sensuality of that age, 
 could have penned a story enchanting as a 
 dream of Eden. For at the time when a Bor- 
 gia was Pope of Rome, when Savonarola was 
 on the rack, when the pledge of friendship 
 was being followed by the dagger thrust, and 
 when simplicity in life had given place to 
 artificiality and refined sensualism, all Italy 
 was blossoming with counterfeit present- 
 ments of saints and Madonnas. It was dur- 
 ing this time that Angelo, Da Vinci, Cor- 
 reggio, Perugino, Alberti, Bramante, Titian, 
 and Raphael wrought on canvas and in 
 stone dreams and conceptions which made 
 this period the golden age of art. And the 
 idealist who chose to dwell only upon the 
 beauty side of life might have given us a 
 picture fair as Venice at sunrise. But the 
 student of history cannot confine his view 
 to a partial appearance ; he must examine 
 society on all sides and weigh with con- 
 scientious impartiality the influence exerted 
 by master minds for good or ill, as well as 
 take into consideration the politics and 
 ideals which mould thought and shape 
 civilization. 
 
96 SOME BRIGHT LIGHTS 
 
 We have already glanced at the Italy of 
 this period and have noticed some of the 
 fatal figures who have left their impress 
 upon Italian life, and now we turn to the 
 pleasing contemplation of such children of 
 genius as Michael Angelo, the Jupiter of 
 art's Olympus ; Correggio, who surpassed 
 in the magic effects of light and shade; Da 
 Vinci, the many-sided genius, a master in 
 painting, skilled in anatomy, astronomy, 
 mathematics and music, a sculptor and an 
 architect of superior ability ; and Raphael 
 the most illustrious of painters, who caught 
 as did no other artist of his age the soul of 
 expression — Raphael, who perceived the 
 spirit of ancient Greece and called from the 
 sepulchre the ideals of olden times, adding 
 to them a peculiar, life-like charm not found 
 in art before his day. 
 
 Michael Angelo Buonarroti is among 
 painters and sculptors what ^schylus is 
 among dramatists and Homer among poets. 
 Prometheus and the demi-gods of the Iliad 
 were familiar to his imagination. He was 
 the exponent of the sublime and the terrible. 
 Born at Caprese, March 6, 1475, he was 
 
OF THE ITALIAN RENAISSANCE. 97 
 
 christened Michiael Angelo.* He early- 
 manifested a passion for the arts, much to 
 the vexation of his father. His early tutor 
 also is said to have been jealous of the genius 
 of the boy ; and the outlook for his being able 
 to realize the dream which filled his young 
 brain seemed dark until Lorenzo de' Medici's 
 attention was called to him. He interceded 
 with the father, and took Michael Angelo 
 
 * His name is said to have been given him on account of the ex- 
 ceptionally propitious position of the planets at the time of his 
 birth. Vasari, speaking of the favorable conjunctions at the mo- 
 ment of Michael Angelo's nativity, observes : "Mercury and Venus 
 having entered with benign aspects into the house of Jupiter, in- 
 dicated that marvellous and extraordinary work both of manual 
 art and Intellect was to be expected of him." Whether or not as- 
 trological calculations were responsible for his remarkable name 
 is uncertain, but it must be remembered that at that period astrol- 
 ogy held a high place in the estimation of many scholars, especially 
 those of a scientific and speculative turn of mind. Jupiter has ever 
 been regarded as the lord of " honor and good fortune, the most 
 powerful of the beneficent planets, and the author of temperance, 
 modesty, sobriety and justice." (See William Lilly's " Introduc- 
 tion to Astrology.") Mercury is said to exert a special influence on 
 the brain, quickening the intellectual faculties, but disposing the 
 individual with his aspects to melancholy. Venus, on the other 
 hand, exerts a mirthful influence. But as Mercury is peculiarly 
 powerful in its effect on the mind, a person born under those two 
 planets in strong positions would probably be sad rather than gay. 
 Venus gives the love for art and beauty and the passion for painting ; 
 as sculpture, philosophy, poetry, and oratory are said to hold great 
 fascination for those strongly influenced by Mercury. It would 
 seem from the positions of the planets and the views held by astrol- 
 ogers in regard to their probable influence on the child's life, that 
 it his father believed in astrology he might have felt that the 
 heavens indicated a lofty destiny for the child who was christened 
 Michael Angelo. 
 
SOME B BIGHT LIGHTS 
 
 into his household. Here the young artist 
 enjoyed the society of the finest scholars of 
 the age. Had he been morally weak the 
 atmosphere of Lorenzo's household would 
 doubtless have proved injurious, if not ruin- 
 ous. But Angelo 
 was one of those 
 austere or rugged 
 souls who pass 
 through life al- 
 i^\^ tJ;^';''!\ \ most unconscious 
 ^ '•-*^®^ loi the seductive 
 influence of a re- 
 fined sensuality, 
 which would prove 
 the ruin of more 
 yielding and ma- 
 terial natures. 
 He scorned arti- 
 ficiality and saw 
 no evil in the simplicity of nature. The 
 nude human body awakened no prurient 
 thoughts and called forth no vicious images in 
 his mind. He saw that those who pretended 
 to be shocked at the nude in art were fre- 
 quently the most licentious in life, and he 
 
 Titian. 
 
OF THE ITALIAN liENAISSANCE. 99 
 
 rightly concluded that it was the depraved 
 imaginations which were thus scandalized, 
 or saw evil, where a high-horn nature 
 would see only beauty, strength and natu- 
 ralness. 
 
 The artist's contempt for hypocrisy and 
 the prurient imagination of pseudo moral- 
 ists was well illustrated later in his life by 
 an incident which occurred in connection 
 with Angelo's work on the Sistine Chapel. 
 This masterpiece was conspicuous for the 
 number of undraped human figures repre- 
 sented. The mock modesty of a corrupt con- 
 ventionalism was as much scandalized as 
 were those who represented the spirit of 
 rigid asceticism, which, though sincere, so 
 frequently regards the noblest objects, as, 
 for example, the human body, as vile, instead 
 of discerning the important fact that the 
 evil lies in a diseased imagination, and a vi- 
 cious educational training which centres the 
 mind on the plane of sensualism rather than 
 in the region of soul-life Avhere dwell pure 
 love and genuine religion, and where flour- 
 ishes true art, unfettered by conventionalism 
 or the trammels of low ideals. The clamor 
 
100 SOME BRIGHT LIGHTS 
 
 against Angelo's work came more from a 
 depraved conventionalism than a narrow- 
 visioned asceticism. "Aretino, who de- 
 lighted in depicting all kinds of unveiled im- 
 purity, was much offended with the chaste 
 nudity of true art." Biagio, the master 
 of ceremonies of Paul III., was greatly 
 shocked, and made much ado over the un- 
 draped figures. Angelo knew the man, and 
 his fine contempt was shown when the Ro- 
 man world thronged to the Sistine to see the 
 " Last Judgment." Biagio was discovered 
 in hell, and Angelo had embellished his por- 
 trait with a pair of ass's ears. The master of 
 ceremonies appealed to the pope to have his 
 picture taken from the great painting.* 
 
 "Where has he placed you ?" inquired 
 the pontiff. 
 
 " In hell," returned Biagio. 
 
 " Oh ! " exclaimed Paul, " then I can do 
 nothing for you. Had he placed you in 
 
 * See " Renaissance in Italy," Part HI.," The Fine Arts," p. 426. I 
 have quoted freely from the exhaustive and exceedingly able 
 writing of Mr. Symonds, as he is the latest of the authoritative his- 
 torians of the Renaissance. He has personally gone over the whole 
 field, and has thrown into the work the enthusiasm and the best ef- 
 forts of a brilliant thinker. He is, in my judgment, the most illus- 
 trious and conscientious historian of the Italian Renaissance. 
 
OF TUE ITALIAN RENAISSANCE. 101 
 
 purgatoi'y I could have removed you, but 
 out of hell there is no redemption." 
 
 Angelo's nudes may repel, but they will 
 never degrade. They reflect the mind 
 o£ the artist, of whom Mr. Symonds ob- 
 serves : 
 
 " Deep, philosophic thoughts, ideas of death 
 and judgment, the stern struggles of the 
 soul, encompassed Michael Angelo. The 
 service of beauty was with him a religion. 
 His character was that of an austere repub- 
 lican, free and solitary. Amid a multitude 
 of slaves and courtiers Michael Angelo made 
 art the vehicle of lofty and soul-speaking 
 thought." 
 
 Thus while, largely through the natural 
 bent of his mind, Angelo failed to be mor- 
 ally depraved by the environment in the 
 house of Lorenzo, he received positive aids 
 through association with the foremost Greek 
 and Latin scholars of the age. His taste for 
 art, poetry and literature was stimulated by 
 personal contact with such men as Ficino, 
 Poliziano, and Pico della Mirandola. But 
 there was another individual, who probably 
 more than all others influenced the life of 
 
102 SOME BBIGHT LIGHTS 
 
 the young sculptor, because there was a 
 certain kinship between the thought-worlds 
 or ideals of the two. Savonarola and An- 
 gelo were both men of vivid imagination ; 
 both souls were haunted with visions as 
 colossal as they were terrible. The sublime 
 and the austere were as much at home in 
 their brains as was beauty the guest of Ra- 
 phael's imagination. It is not strange, there- 
 fore, that the thrilling sermons of Savonarola 
 exerted a powerful influence over Michael 
 Angelo, or that the awful pictures drawn by 
 the eloquent and impassioned prophet-priest 
 dwelt in the chambers of the young sculptor's 
 brain, until the hour came when in the Sis- 
 tine Chapel he had an opportunity to give 
 them outward expression in his august and 
 solemn masterpiece. Another influence which 
 may be considered as formative, largely due, 
 however, to the peculiar bent of Angelo's 
 mind, was the poetry of Dante, which at a 
 later period he studied for several months. 
 The fact that Savonarola's sermons and 
 Dante's poetry exerted so strange and fas- 
 cinating a power over the mind of the sculp- 
 tor enables us to understand how easy it was 
 
OF THE ITALIAN RENAISSANCE. 103 
 
 for him to escape the contaminating immor- 
 ality of his age. 
 
 In 1496 Angelo went to Rome, where he 
 wrought his Bacchus, and later his remark- 
 able Madonna holding the dead Christ. In 
 referring to this work, Mr. Symonds says : 
 
 " Here, while the Borgias were turning the 
 Vatican into a den of thieves and harlots, 
 he [Angelo] executed the purest of all his 
 statues — a Pieta in marble. Christ is lying 
 dead upon His mother's knees. With her 
 right arm she supports His shoulders ; her 
 left hand is gently raised, as though to say 
 ' Behold and see.' All that art can do to 
 make death beautiful and grief sublime is 
 achieved in this work, which was never 
 surpassed by Angelo in later years." 
 
 In 1501 the sculptor returned to Flor- 
 ence, where, among other masterpieces, he 
 wrought his " David," and made the mem- 
 orable cartoon, strangely enough termed 
 " The Battle of Pisa." In 1505 we find 
 him again in Rome, where he received a 
 commission to build for the pope a magnifi- 
 cent mausoleum. The work, as conceived 
 by the foremost genius of the age, would 
 
104 SOME BRIGHT LIGHTS 
 
 have been the most " stupendous monument 
 of sculpture in the world." The project 
 was doomed to failure, owing to the par- 
 simoniousness and fickle character of the 
 pope, who allowed himself to be preju- 
 diced against Angelo, and owing also 
 to the elaborate and colossal character of 
 the work proposed by the sculptor. From 
 1508 to 1512 Angelo was engaged in the 
 decoration of the Sistine Chapel. Of this 
 immortal work, and of Angelo's art in 
 general, Mr. Symonds observes : 
 
 " Entering the Sistine Chapel, and raising 
 our eyes to sweep the - roof, we have above 
 us a long and somewhat narrow oblong 
 space, vaulted with round arches, and 
 covered from end to end, from side to side, 
 with a network of human forms. The whole 
 is colored like the dusky, tawny, bluish clouds 
 of thunder-storms. There is no luxury of 
 decorative art — no gold, no paint box of 
 vermilion or emerald green has been 
 lavished here. Sombre and aerial, like 
 shapes condensed from vapor, or dreams 
 begotten by Ixion upon mists of eve or 
 dawn, the phantoms evoked by the sculptor 
 
OF THE ITALIAN RENAISSANCE. 105 
 
 throng that space. Nine compositions, carry- 
 ing down the sacred history from the crea- 
 tion of light to the beginning of sin in 
 Noah's household, fill the central compart- 
 ments of the roof. Beneath these, seated 
 on the spandrels, are alternate prophets and 
 sibyls, twelve in all, attesting to the future 
 deliverance and judgment of the world by 
 Christ. The intermediate spaces between 
 these larger masses on the roof and in the 
 lunettes of the windows swarm with figures, 
 some naked and some draped — women and 
 children, boys and young men, grouped in 
 tranquil attitudes, or adapting themselves 
 with freedom to their station on the curves 
 and angles of the architecture. In these 
 subordinate creations Michael Angelo deigned 
 to drop the terrible style, in order that he 
 might show how sweet and full of charm 
 his art could be. The grace of coloring 
 realized in some of those youthful and 
 athletic forms is such as no copy can rep- 
 resent. Every posture of beauty and of 
 strength, simple or strained, that it is pos- 
 sible for men to assume, has been depicted 
 here. 
 
106 SOME BRIGHT LIGUTb 
 
 " To speak adequately of these form-poems 
 would be quite impossible. Buonarotti 
 seems to have intended to prove by tliem 
 that the human body has a language inex- 
 haustible in symbolism — every limb, every 
 feature, and every attitude being a word 
 fidl of significance to those who compre- 
 hend, just as music is a language whereof 
 each note and chord and p)hrase has corre- 
 spondence with the S2olritual world. It may 
 be presumptuous after this fashion to interpret 
 the design of him who called into existence 
 the heroic population of the Sistine. Yet 
 Michael Angelo has written lines which in 
 some measure justify the reading. This is 
 how he closes one of his finest sonnets : 
 
 ' Nor hath God deigned to show Himself elsewhere 
 More clearly than in human forms sublime, 
 Which, since they image Him, compel my love.' 
 
 Therefore to him a well-shaped hand or 
 throat or head, a neck superbly poised on 
 an athletic chest, the sway of the trunk 
 above the hips, the starting of the muscles 
 on the flank, the tendons of the ankle, the 
 outline of the shoulder when the arm is 
 raised, the backward bending of the loins, 
 
OF THE ITALIAN RENAISSANCE. 107 
 
 the curves of a woman's breast, the contour 
 of a body careless in repose or strained for 
 action, were all words pregnant with pro- 
 foundest meaning, whereby fit utterance 
 might be given to the thoughts that raise 
 man near to God. But, it may be asked, 
 w^hat poems of action as well as feeling are 
 to be expressed in this form-language ? 
 The answer is simple. Paint or carve 
 the body of a man, and as you do it nobly, 
 you will give the measure of both highest 
 thought and m,ost impassioned deed. This 
 is the key to Michael Angelo's art." 
 
 Castelar, in his " Old Rome and New 
 Italy," thus characterizes Angelo's Last 
 Judgment and the effect which the work 
 in the Sistine Chapel produced upon him : 
 
 "Nature is but little represented in the 
 Last Judgment ; Michael Angelo has only 
 depicted air and light. The planets are not 
 seen revolving majestically through space, 
 nor the sun dyed in gold and crimson, nor 
 the mountains rent in pieces, nor the raging 
 sea tossed in foaming waves by a terrible 
 tempest — nothing of this : in the blue air, 
 in the air alone, passes the awful scene 
 
108 SOME BRIGHT LIGHTS 
 
 occupied solely by human bodies and celes- 
 tial clouds, and over both the anger of the 
 Eternal. All appears horrible, all frightful 
 in that picture, as if no one could be saved, 
 so forcibly does terror dominate all other 
 sentiments. Attention cannot be long con- 
 centrated on the sublime. On feeling a 
 profound emotion, the nerves are shaken 
 and the brain is furrowed as if by an elec- 
 tric shock. I felt my temples palpitate, as 
 if the swelling veins Avere about to burst 
 from the torrent of gigantic thoughts ex- 
 cited by that chapel, which comprehends 
 all of human life, from the creation to the 
 universal judgment. I wanted air, and 
 went out to breathe it in the Roman Cam- 
 pagna, around whose ruins the lovely season 
 of April had flung her green and joyous 
 mantle. But on turning, I beheld, in the 
 azure of the heavens, the outline of a stu- 
 pendous work, over which floats the soul 
 of Michael Angelo, who designed the dome 
 of St. Peter's, which appeared gilded and 
 glorified by the last rays of the setting sun." 
 It is impossible for me to dwell longer on 
 the works of Angelo, but from what has been 
 
OF THE ITALIAN RENAISSANCE. 109 
 
 said, and when we call to mind his part of 
 the work on St. Peter's and other noble monu- 
 ments which bear the impress of his master 
 mind, we are able to conceive something of 
 his transcendent genius. 
 
 His life was singularly pure, and his con- 
 versation was unsmirched by vulgarity. He 
 was a man of strong faith. In one of his 
 letters to his father, he says : " Do not vex 
 yourself ; God did not make us to abandon 
 us. Men are worth more than money." 
 And in one of his greatest sonnets, com- 
 posed when his life was nearing its eventide, 
 he thus expressed his religious sentiments : 
 
 " Now hath my life across a stormy sea, 
 
 Like a frail bark, reached that wide port where 
 
 all 
 Are bidden, ere the final reckoning fall 
 Of good and evil for eternity. 
 Now know I well how that fond phantasy 
 Which made my soul the worshiper and thrall 
 Of earthly art is vain ; how criminal 
 Is that which all men seek unwillingly. 
 Those amorous thoughts which were so lightly 
 dressed, 
 What are they when the double death is nigh ? 
 The one I know for sure, the other dread. 
 Painting nor sculpture now can lull to rest 
 My soul, that turns to His great love on high. 
 Whose arms to clasp us on the cross were 
 spread." 
 
110 
 
 SOME BRIGHT LIGHTS 
 
 " His old age was the serene and splendid 
 evening of a toilsome day." He died in 
 Rome, " the city of his soul," on the fifteenth 
 of February, 1564, and was buried in Flor- 
 ence, " the city of his ancestry," amid pomp 
 and civic honors. 
 
 Leonardo da Vinci, the most versatile of 
 
 the great painters 
 of his day, was the 
 illegitimate son of 
 a notary who lived 
 at Vinci, near Flor- 
 ence. He ranked 
 among the great- 
 est painters of the 
 Renaissance, and 
 *\ ^J W until Angelo paint- 
 ^i\iV,li ;. ed the cartoon 
 Jl^th^ '^ known a s the 
 
 *'^ "Battle of Pisa," 
 
 Da vinoi. was Considered by 
 
 the Florentines as their greatest artist. By 
 an evil chance the finest artistic works of this 
 master have been lost. His " Last Supper," 
 as colored by Da Vinci on the walls of the 
 convent of Santa Maria delle Grazie at Milan, 
 
OF THE ITALIAN RENAISSANCE. HI 
 
 exists no lono-er. The outlines of the fisfures 
 remain as the master drew them, but the col- 
 oring- of Da Vinci soon faded, and the vicis- 
 situdes of time and the savagery of man seem 
 to have conspired to ruin one of the greatest 
 artistic works of the golden age of art. His 
 great cartoon made in Florence, Avhich was 
 surpassed only by Angelo's " Battle of 
 Pisa," is also destroyed. Da Vinci spent 
 many years in Milan. He visited Rome when 
 Pope Leo X. was in the papal chair, but find- 
 ing Angelo and Raphael outranking him as 
 painters, he left the city in disgust. He en- 
 tered the service of Francis I., Avho was a 
 patron of art and artists, and died in the 
 service of that king in 1519. He left many 
 valuable manuscripts. 
 
 Had Da Vinci concentrated his genius on 
 painting instead of interrogating every mys- 
 tery that fell under his alert and curious gaze, 
 he woTild probably have equalled Raphael 
 and Angelo as painters, although his work 
 ■would have been essentially different from 
 theirs. His restless spirit, however, chafed 
 within its narrow walls. He had caught the 
 broader spirit of the times. The larger vis- 
 
112 SOME BlilGIIT LIGHTS 
 
 ion of knowledge which fired Americus Ves- 
 pucius and Magellan had touched his brain 
 with its soul-disturbing influence. He may 
 justly be termed the Interrogation Point of 
 the Italian Renaissance. He caught glimpses 
 o£ great scientific facts which were among 
 the most important discoveries of a later day. 
 On this point Hallam says ; * 
 
 " The discoveries which made Galileo, Kep- 
 ler, Maestlin, Maurolycus, Castelli, and other 
 names illustrious, the system of Copernicus, 
 and the very theories of recent geologists are 
 anticipated by Da Vinci within the compass 
 of a few pages — not, perhaps, in the most 
 precise language or on the most conclusive 
 reasoning, but so as to strike us with some- 
 thing like the awe of preternatural knowl- 
 edge." 
 
 Da Vinci was a passionate lover of music, 
 and became a skilled performer. His lute 
 was tuned according to " acoustic laws," dis- 
 covered by himself. He was the foremost 
 anatomist of his time. He- was ever sound- 
 ing mysteries and turning from one field of 
 research to another in quest of knowledge. 
 
 * " Introduction to the Literature of Europe." 
 
OF TUE ITALIAN liENAlSSANCE. 113 
 
 Of his inventive skill and the wide range of 
 his investigations, Mr. Symonds says : 
 
 " He invented machinery for water mills, 
 an aqueduct, devised engines of war, projected 
 new systems of siege artillery, designed build- 
 ings, made plans for piercing mountains, 
 draining marshes, clearijig harbors. There 
 was no branch of study whereby nature, 
 through the efforts of the inquisitive intel-' 
 lect, might be subordinated to the use of 
 man, of Avhich he was not the master." 
 
 The thoughts, hints and suggestions of 
 this many-sided man of genius were a con- 
 stant inspiration to artists and students dur- 
 ing his life, and doubtless his written treatises 
 have proved helpful to many scientific stu- 
 dents since his day. 
 
 Antonio AUegri, known to the world by 
 the name of his birthplace, Correggio, was 
 born two years after the discovery of America, 
 and at a moment when the subtle vibratory 
 waves which sweep from brain to brain were 
 luminous with intellectual stimulus, charged 
 with artistic impulses, and freighted with hope 
 and wonder. His taste for art was early dis- 
 cernible, and though we know almost nothing 
 
114 
 
 SOME BRIGHT LIGHTS 
 
 of his early youth, by the time he reached 
 his twenty-first year he had completed his 
 celebrated Madonna of St. Francis, now in 
 the Dresden Gallery. 
 
 In 1518, Correggio received an invitation 
 to repair to Parma and execute some Avork 
 
 for the abbess of the 
 conventof San Paolo. 
 The abbess apjaarent- 
 ly had wearied of 
 scriptural subjects ; 
 her fancy ran more 
 to mythological 
 scenes, and her taste 
 was shared by the 
 rising young master. 
 For Correggio never 
 was s o happy a s 
 CoEREGsio. when, untrammelled 
 
 by convention, he was able to let his fancy 
 float with the dreams and legends of the 
 mythological ages. " He was," says Dr. 
 Julius Mayer, " innocently and unconsciously 
 a heathen." Over the fireplace of the dining- 
 room of the abbess he painted, not a Virgin 
 in ecstatic contemplation, but a superb picture 
 
 JX-: 
 
OF THE ITALIAN MENAISSANCE. 115 
 
 of Diana returning from the chase. The car 
 of the goddess is moving at full speed, drawn 
 by two white does ; her knees are bent in the 
 act of springing into her seat ; tlie wind 
 catches her mantle ; her face is turned to- 
 ward the spectator. Elsewhere throughout 
 this room the decorations conform to this 
 picture, which is the keynote of its orna- 
 mentation. 
 
 Later, Correggio received from the monks 
 of the convent of San Giovanni the impor- 
 tant commission to paint the cupola of their 
 church. In treating this work, Correggio's 
 departure from conventional methods was as 
 radical as the spirit of the painting was unlike 
 the severe conceptions of earlier Christian 
 painters. His fame was now so great in 
 Parma that he received a commission to 
 decorate the cathedral of that city. The 
 result of this work was too unconventional 
 to suit the Parmese, and it is said that the 
 canons of the church had decided to have the 
 painting effaced, when, according to an oft- 
 repeated story, Titian happened to pass 
 through Parma, in the suite of Charles V. 
 He visited the cathedral, and was spellbound 
 
116 SOME BRIGHT LIGHTS 
 
 by the marvels of Correggio's brush. The 
 greatest of all colorists expressed his con- 
 tempt for the opinion of those who were cry- 
 ing out against this masterpiece by exclaim- 
 ing, " If you had filled the dome with gold 
 you would not have paid what it is worth." 
 This legend, like many connected with the 
 work of Correggio, is however of doubtful 
 authority, and is chiefly valuable as emphasiz- 
 ing the fact that for years after his death 
 only great artists fully appreciated a painter 
 so bold and unconventional as Correggio. 
 
 Of the artist and the characteristics of his 
 work I cannot do better than give the follow- 
 ing delightful summary by Mr. Symonds : 
 
 " Correggio is the Faun or Ariel of Renais- 
 sance painting. Turning from him to Ra- 
 phael, we are naturally first struck by the 
 affinities and differences between them. Both 
 drew from their study of the world the ele- 
 ments of joy which it contains ; but the glad- 
 ness of Correggio was more sensuous than 
 that of Raphael ; his intellectual faculties were 
 less developed ; his rapture was more tumul- 
 tuous and Bacchantic. Like Raphael, Cor- 
 reggio died young. In his work there was 
 
OF THE ITALIAN RENAISSANCE. 117 
 
 nothing worldly : that divides him from the 
 Venetians whose sensuousness he shared; 
 nothing scientific : that distingnishes him 
 from Da Vinci, the magic of whose chiar- 
 oscuro he comprehended ; nothing contem- 
 plative : that separates him from Michael An- 
 gelo, the audacity of whose design in dealing 
 with forced attitudes he rivalled, without 
 apparently having enjoyed the opportunity 
 of studying his works. The cheerfulness of 
 Raphael, the wizardry of Leonardo, and the 
 boldness of Michael Angelo met in him to 
 form a new style, the originality of which is 
 indisputable, which takes us captive — not by 
 intellectual power, but by. the impulse of 
 emotion. 
 
 '' Correggio created a world of beautiful 
 human beings, the whole condition of whose 
 existence is a radiant wantonness. Over the 
 domain of tragedy he had no sway, nor could 
 he deal with subjects demanding pregnancy 
 of intellectual meaning. He paints the three 
 Fates, for instance, like young and joyous 
 Bacchantes ; if we placed rose garlands and 
 thyrsi in their hands instead of the distaff and 
 the thread of human destinies, they might 
 
118 SOME BRIGHT LIGHTS 
 
 figure upon the panels of a banquet chamber 
 in Pompeii. 
 
 "He was essentially a lyrical as distin- 
 guished from an epical or dramatic poet. The 
 unity of his Avork is derived from the effect 
 of light and atmosphere, the inbreathed soul 
 of tremulous and throbbing life, which bathes 
 and liquefies the whole. It was enough for 
 him to produce a gleeful symphony by the 
 play of light and color, by the animation of 
 his figures, and by the intoxicating beauty 
 of his forms. His angels are genii disim- 
 prisoned from the chalice of flowers, houris 
 of an erotic paradise, elemental sprites of 
 nature wantoning in Eden in her prime." 
 
 Correggio died on the 5tli of March, 1534, 
 at the age of forty. 
 
 We now come to notice Raphael Sanzio, 
 the most illustrious of painters. He was 
 born in 1483, at Urbino. His father was an 
 artist ; the son inherited a passion for art. 
 He became the disciple of the beautiful. 
 When only seventeen years of age he was a 
 painter of marked ability, and from thence, 
 during the score of years allotted him, he 
 rose to the highest pitch of fame among the 
 
OF THE ITALIAN BENAISSANCE. 119 
 
 world's greatest painters. When one con- 
 templates the life of Raphael a feeling of awe 
 is inspired by the work accomplished by this 
 fair young soul, whose marvellous breadth 
 of vision was only equalled by intuitive in- 
 sight and a per- 
 fection of execu- 
 tion at once be- 
 wildering and awe- 
 inspiring. He pos- 
 sessed the power to 
 assimilate, but was 
 in no sense an imi- 
 tator. He appro- ^ 
 priated the best > 
 from other mas- 
 ters, and dowered 
 that best with the 
 wealth of his 
 
 marvellous imag- Raphael. 
 
 ination. Herein is the possession of genius 
 exemplified. Mediocrity copies and imitates 
 without catching the soul behind the work 
 or possessing the power to infuse the inert 
 copy with the life born of a vivid imagina- 
 tion. The play of Hamlet existed and had 
 
120 SOME BRIGHT LIGHTS 
 
 been played before it passed through the 
 brain of Shakespeare, but it was not until 
 the master genius of the dramatic world 
 breathed into it the breath of life that it 
 became one of the capital works in the litera- 
 ture of the ages. 
 
 Angelo and Raphael were two of the 
 greatest geniuses of any age. They were 
 men of inexhaustible imagination, and as un- 
 like as the eagle and the dove. Angelo's 
 mind mirrored the Titanic struggles of man- 
 kind. He pictured the sterner side of life. 
 Raphael was the apostle of the beautiful. 
 Angelo dwelt on the height, and heard the 
 wail of human misery ; he saw the writhing 
 of the human form on the rack and in the 
 clutches of disease. Nay, more, the imag- 
 ination of Savonarola and Dante, brooding 
 over tragedies as colossal as they were im- 
 possible, stimulated preternaturally the mind 
 of Angelo. He stood above the abyss, with 
 the imagery of Savonarola jjhotographed on 
 the retina of his eyes, the poetry of Dante 
 sounding through his brain, his great, sad 
 soul mantled in isolation. And lo ! the 
 things he had seen under the spell of the 
 
OF THE ITALIAN RENAISSANCE. 121 
 
 eloquent monk and the dreams awakened by 
 the great poet assumed form and haunted 
 his brain until he gave them to the world. 
 
 Raphael, on the other hand, was the 
 prophet of the dawn. His fair face re- 
 flected a nature at once cordial, open-hearted 
 and high-minded. He was the child of 
 Phoebus, an idealist of the idealists. I be- 
 lieve that he is known to have painted 
 agony and death but once. His soul 
 is always full of song. The horrors of 
 war surround him ; the marvellous stories 
 of a new world are told to him ; but 
 he has no time to weep where tears will 
 prove unavaiUng, or to become curious 
 where curiosity wiU divert his mind from 
 the multitude of rare visions of beauty 
 which flood his brain, and which he longs 
 to give to the world before he is summoned 
 to another life. His brief life as an inde- 
 pendent artist — scarcely a score of years in 
 number — is divided into three periods, the 
 Perugian, the Florentine and the Roman, 
 each outshining its predecessor. Of him Mr. 
 Symonds observes : 
 
 " He found in the world nothing but its 
 
122 SOME BRIGHT LIGHTS 
 
 joy, and communicated to his ideal the 
 beauty of untouched virginity. He received 
 from nature and from man a message un- 
 spoiled by one discordant note. It was as 
 though the spirit of young Greece lived in 
 him again, purifying his tastes to perfection 
 and restraining him from the delineation 
 of things stern or horrible. His very 
 person was the symbol of his genius. 
 
 " The loveliness of Rajjhael was fair and 
 flexible, fascinating not by power or 
 mystery, but by the winning charm of open- 
 hearted sweetness. To this physical beauty, 
 rather delicate than strong, he united spir- 
 itual graces of the most amiable nature. 
 He was gentle, docile, modest, ready to 
 oblige, free from jealousy, binding all men 
 to him by his cheerful courtesy. In morals 
 he was pure ; indeed, judged by the lax 
 standard of those times, he might be called 
 almost immaculate. His intellectual capac- 
 ity, in all that concerned the art of paint- 
 ing, was unbounded." 
 
 Of the breadth and catholicity of his 
 thought, this author continues : 
 
 " In the Vatican he covered the walls and 
 
OF THE ITALIAN RENAISSANCE. 123 
 
 ceilings of the Stanze with historical and 
 symbolical frescoes that embrace the whole 
 of human knowledge. The cramping limits 
 of ecclesiastical tradition are transcended. 
 The synod of the antique sages finds a 
 place beside the synod of the fathers and 
 the company of saints. Parnassus and the 
 allegory of the virtues front each other. 
 The legend of Marsyas and the mythus of 
 the Fall are companion pictures. A new 
 catholicity, a new orthodoxy of the beau- 
 tiful appears. The Renaissance in all its 
 breadth and liberality of judgment takes 
 ideal form. The brain has guided the hand 
 throughout, and the result is sterling poetry. 
 The knowledge, again, expressed in many of 
 his frescoes is so thorough that we wonder 
 whether in his body lived again the soul of 
 some accomplished sage." 
 
 Next to his marvellous genius nothing has 
 excited the wonder of art students more 
 than the number of his works and the excel- 
 lence which characterized them. It has 
 been said that his unflagging industry has 
 never been surpassed ; and this is all the more 
 remarkable when we remember that his 
 
124 SOME BRIGHT LIGHTS 
 
 greatest works, and the largest number, 
 were produced in a city of wealth, luxury 
 and licentiousness, where every possible 
 temptation was thrown in the way of a sus- 
 ceptible youth. That he could thus work 
 in the midst of luxury and license is in it- 
 self a magnificent tribute to the strength of 
 his character. 
 
 He died on the anniversary of his birth, 
 April 6, 1520. The circle of his short life 
 was complete, though it measured but thirty- 
 seven years, not quite a score of which had 
 been spent as an independent workman. 
 And yet such were his industry and genius 
 that during those brief years he created so 
 many immortal works of art that, had they 
 been the result of fourscore years, civili- 
 zation would have regarded his life as 
 markedly fruitful. Behind the hand which 
 wielded Raphael's brush was the tireless 
 brain of a genius which seemed instinctively 
 to know that its stay on earth was destined 
 to be short, and that, therefore, the mar- 
 vellous visions which crowded the chambers 
 of his soul must be given to man without 
 delay. 
 
OF THE ITALIAN RENAISSANCE. 125 
 
 The news of the artist's death created a 
 profound sensation throughout Rome. The 
 city was thrown into sincere mourning. He 
 was loved by all save a few jealous natures 
 among his rivals. He had done more than 
 any other man to restore to Rome her ancient 
 glory. He was a sincere and devout Catho- 
 lic, and his art treasures wrought for the 
 church were indeed children of his love as 
 well as the offspring of his genius. He Avas 
 a courtly, refined nature, an idealist and a 
 dreamer who shrank from harsh words or 
 ungenerous deeds. Hence the civic pride 
 felt by the Romans in the possession of the 
 most illustrious of painters, the deep attach- 
 ment cherished by the truly patriotic owing 
 to his labors for the restoration of Rome to 
 her former architectural glory, the unfeigned 
 admiration entertained for him by the zeal- 
 ous Catholic due to his devotion to the 
 Roman Church, the sincere affection of those 
 associated Avith him inspired by his gener- 
 ous-hearted, kind and genial nature. These 
 influences combined to make Raphael almost 
 universally loved in Rome, and his death 
 was felt as a personal loss in thousands of 
 
126 SOME BBTGHT LIGHTS 
 
 homes. Count Castiglione wrote to his 
 mother, " It seems to me I am no more in 
 Rome since my poor dear Raphael is not 
 here." Thousands of citizens followed his 
 body to the Pantheon. 
 
 Rome felt what almost all Raphael's bi- 
 ographers have expressed — that it Avas a 
 cruel fate which thus cut off a glorious child 
 of genius, before he had reached the meridian 
 of early manhood. I confess I cannot share 
 this view. At the time of his death Raphael 
 had accomplished more in the way of great 
 works of art than any contemporary. He 
 was a child of the morning. His fine, sweet 
 nature never felt the blasts and crushing 
 blows which beat around and fall upon most 
 of those sons of God we call geniuses. His 
 was a May-day life from birth to death, but 
 it was not spent as are most May-day lives. 
 There was never a moment when Raphael 
 did not seem impressed with the urgent de- 
 mands imposed upon him by the Eternal. 
 His genius drove him on. Neither wealth, 
 the indolence of those around him, the praise 
 of the great, nor the sycophancy and flattery 
 of the small seduced him from his arduous 
 
OF THE ITALIAN BENAISSANCE. 127 
 
 tasks. His was a nature which shrank from 
 even the contemplation of pain and anguish. 
 His soul recoiled from the tragedies of life. 
 After he had wrought so nobly and so 
 bountifully, after he had given to earth 
 more immortal art treasures than even Ti- 
 tian, though the latter lived almost a cent- 
 ury, it was a kind fate that allowed him 
 to depart before Rome was sacked and pil- 
 laged. He had loved the Eternal City with 
 a passion rarely equalled in the history 
 of patriotic devotion. He had not only 
 adorned her with his noblest works of art, 
 but his most ardent desire was to be able to 
 restore her ancient glory. One who under- 
 stands a nature so finely strung that the 
 mind recoils from the slaughter of human 
 lives, and from pain and misery in any form, 
 and at the same time loves the creations of 
 art as if they were things of life, can easily 
 appreciate with what horror he would have 
 witnessed the sacking of Rome, with its at- 
 tendant brutalities, and what to him would 
 have been the ruthless profanation of that 
 which was sacred. I repeat it was a kind 
 fate which permitted him to depart while his 
 
128 BRIGHT LIGHTS OF THE RENAISSANCE. 
 
 fame was at its zenith, while love lighted up 
 his pathway and the sun shone on his child- 
 soul. 
 
 I have selected these four typical charac- 
 ters from the brilliant coterie whose marvel- 
 lous attainments in art filled all Italy with 
 glory and made ihis period the golden age 
 of painting. They were the most luminous 
 expressions of a spirit which seemed to brood 
 over the peninsula, touching and illuminating 
 the artistic impulses of scores of gifted men. 
 They represent the high lights of this cent-, 
 ury, as Lorenzo de' Medici, Alexander VI., 
 Cesare Borgia, and Machiavelli represent the 
 darker shadows. They belonged to the dy- 
 nasty of genius. They were high priests of 
 true art, and in their chosen spheres revealed 
 to what heights the soul of man might soar, 
 thereby giving vis a glimpse of what human- 
 ity may become when man shall grow rational 
 enough to rise above passion ; when he shall 
 become great enough to appreciate the mys- 
 terious promptings of his higher self ; when 
 the tiger, the hyena, the serpent and the 
 vulture in the human brain shall be subdued 
 by an awakened and emancipated soul. 
 
VI.— THE SPANISH PENINSULA DURING 
 THE CENTURY OF SIR THOMAS MORE. 
 
 The awakening on the physical side of life— The greed for gold 
 and blind and fanatical religious persecution — The fall of 
 Granada and the reestablishment of the Inquisition — Appall- 
 ing picture of the tragic fate of the Jews and others who came 
 under the ban — Columbus discovers the New World — Cortez 
 conquers Mexico — Magellan's fleet circumnavigates the earth 
 — The colossal figure of Albuquerque and his pathetic 
 end— General observations on the Spanish Peninsula of this 
 century. 
 
 COLUMBCS. 
 
 The same cause 
 or combination of 
 causes may awaken 
 widely different sen- 
 timents in different 
 individuals, even ap- 
 pealing to entirely 
 different planes of 
 being in their organ- 
 isms. And this fact 
 is equally true of 
 nations and civiliza- 
 tions. What may 
 
 appeal to the scientific spirit or the ethical 
 
 129 
 
130 SPANISH PENINSULA DURING THE 
 
 and religious impulses of a sturdy, sincere 
 and simple people, may find a response in 
 the artistic and aesthetic sentiments o£ a 
 nation older in its civilization and some- 
 what enervated by great wealth ; while a 
 third people may receive the same great 
 thought waves and come in touch with the 
 same moving causes with the result that 
 an inordinate desire for wealth follows — 
 a desire for gain which can give power 
 and the gratification of the sense percep- 
 tions. 
 
 It is a noteworthy fact that the causes 
 which led to the Renaissance in a way awak- 
 ened these widely different impulses and 
 desires. Thus, as we have seen, north of 
 the Alps, especially among the German and 
 English peoples, ethical, religious, and philo- 
 sophical sentiments were awakened. " All 
 for spiritual and scientific truth, or the 
 eternal verities of the Universe," became the 
 watchword. South of the Alps a passion 
 for art predominated. " All for Beauty," 
 was the keynote of Italian thought ; and 
 in Florence, Rome, Venice, Milan, Parma 
 and other cities of the peninsula, painting, 
 
CENTURY OF SIR THOMAS MORE. 131 
 
 sculpture and architecture blossomed as never 
 before. 
 
 To the westward the physical ideal seems 
 to have exerted a predominating influence. 
 Riches, the gold of the Indies — this was the 
 magnet which furnished the money for 
 Columbus and nerved the Portuguese to 
 weather the Cape of Good Hope. Discovery 
 for possession and commerce, for the power 
 and gratification which gold could yield — 
 these thoughts filled the horizon of many 
 minds. Wealth meant splendid homes, mag- 
 nificent villas, the gratification of appetites, 
 the mastery of man, and, through this, 
 further license. Another side of man's 
 nature which blazed forth more balefuUy on 
 the Spanish Peninsula than anywhere else 
 during this period was the spirit of savage 
 brutaUty born of greed for gain, min- 
 gled with a low and degraded conception 
 of religion. The conquest of Granada, 
 the overthrow of one of the most remark- 
 able civiUzations the world has known, 
 and the reduction of vast acres of highly 
 cultivated gardens to arid plains was the 
 glorious (?) work which won the title of 
 
132 SPANISH PENINSULA DURING THE 
 
 "the Catholic" for Ferdinand and Isa- 
 bella. 
 
 But it was not until the reestablishment of 
 the Inquisition under the reign of these rulers 
 that Europe beheld that example of the 
 triumphant tiger in man, which by its con- 
 tagion infected western civilization, and 
 turned more than one Christian nation into 
 a field of slaughter. There is nothing so 
 dangerous as a dogmatic religion in the 
 hands of a savage and brutal people. It 
 crushes out all the divine impulses ; it over- 
 throws reason and freezes the sweet humani- 
 tarian impulses which link civilized man to 
 man ; it awakens in human beings the hyena, 
 the tiger and the serpent. It anaesthetizes 
 the soul; it fills the mind with the conviction 
 that the belief the fanatic holds is the truth, 
 and being the truth, that all persons holding 
 different views should be — convinced by 
 reason ? Oh no ! the religious bigot has a 
 horror of reason. The rack, the stake, the 
 dungeon — this method of deaHng with an 
 opponent is much more convenient. When 
 the majority of the people of a community 
 believe the tenets of a dogmatic creed, and 
 
CENTURY OF SIR THOMAS MORE. 133 
 
 their education has been along the lines of 
 physical and intellectual attainments rather 
 than moral excellence, the man who has a 
 sublime mission is pretty certain to meet a 
 tragic end. Socrates is given hemlock ; Joan 
 of Arc is sent to the stake ; Galileo is com- 
 mitted to the dungeon ; Bruno is doomed 
 to the flames ; Harvey suffers professional 
 ostracism ; Roger Williams is banished. 
 Now it was during the reign of Ferdinand 
 and Isabella that, for the riches to be gained 
 by confiscation and murder, and for the glory 
 of the Roman Church, the dial of civilization 
 was turned backward, and the church entered 
 upon a campaign of merciless torture and 
 savage slaughter which eclipsed the persecu- 
 tion of all other religions in the history of 
 civilization. Of the opening act of this 
 appalling tragedy, Mr. Symonds observes : 
 
 " The Inquisition was established in Spain 
 in 1478 for the extermination of Jews, Moors 
 and Christians with a taint of heresy. Dur- 
 ing the next four years two thousand victims 
 were burned in the Province of Castile. In 
 Seville a plot of ground called the Quemadero, 
 or place of burning — a new Aceldama — was 
 
134 SPANISH PENINSULA DVRING THE 
 
 set apart for executions ; and here in one 
 year two hundred heretics were committed to 
 the flames, while seventy-nine were condemned 
 to perpetual imprisonment and seventeen thou- 
 sand to lighter punishments of various kinds. 
 In Andalusia alone five thousand houses 
 were at once abandoned by their inhabitants. 
 Then followed, in 1492, the celebrated edict 
 against the Jews. Before four months had 
 expired the whole Jewish population were 
 bidden to leave Spain, carrying with them 
 nothing in the shape of gold or silver. To 
 convert their property into bills of exchange 
 and movables was their only resource. The 
 market speedily was glutted ; a house was 
 given for an ass, a vineyard for a suit of 
 clothes. Vainly did the persecuted race en- 
 deavor to purchase a remission of the sen- 
 tence by the payment of an exorbitant ran- 
 som. Torquemada appeared before Ferdi- 
 nand and his consort, raising the crucifix, and 
 crying, ' Judas sold Christ for thirty pieces 
 of silver ; sell ye Him for a larger sum, and 
 account for the same to God ! ' 
 
 " The exodus began. Eight hundred thou- 
 sand Jews left Spain, — some for the coast of 
 
CENTURY OF SIR THOMAS MORE. J35 
 
 Africa, where the Arabs ripped their bodies 
 up in search for gems or gold they might 
 have swallowed, and deflowered their women ; 
 some for Portugal, where they bought the 
 right to exist for a large head-tax, and where 
 they saw their sons and daughters dragged 
 away to baptism before their eyes. Others 
 were sold as slaves, or had to satisfy the ra- 
 pacity of their persecutors with the bodies of 
 their children. Many flung themselves into 
 the wells, and sought to bury despair in sui- 
 cide. The Mediterranean was covered with 
 famine-stricken and plague-breeding fleets of 
 exiles. Putting into the port of Genoa, they 
 were refused leave to reside in the city, and 
 died by hundreds in the harbor. Their fes- 
 tering bodies bred a pestilence along the 
 whole Italian seaboard, of which at Naples 
 alone twenty thousand persons died. Flit- 
 ting from shore to shore, these forlorn spec- 
 tres, the victims of bigotry and avarice, every- 
 where pillaged and everywhere rejected, 
 dwindled away and disappeared. Meanwhile 
 the orthodox rejoiced. Pico della Mirandola, 
 who spent his life in reconciling Plato with 
 the Cabala, finds nothing more to say than 
 
136 SPANISH PENINSULA DUBING THE 
 
 this : ' The sufferings o£ the Jews, in which 
 the glory of the Divine justice delighted, 
 were so extreme as to fill us Christians with 
 commiseration.' With these words we may 
 compare the following passage from Sena- 
 rega : ' The matter at first sight seemed 
 praiseworthy, as regarding the honor done 
 to our religion ; yet it involved some amount 
 of cruelty, if we look upon them, not as 
 beasts, but as men, the handiwork of God.' 
 Thus Spain began to devour and depopulate 
 herself. The curse which fell upon the Jew 
 and Moor descended next upon philosopher 
 and patriot. The very life of the nation, in 
 its commerce, its industry, its free thought, 
 its energy of character, was deliberately and 
 steadily throttled." * 
 
 The savagery of the Inquisition, or the 
 wholesale slaughter which at this time began 
 the enactment of the supreme tragedy of 
 Western civilization, whereby " Europe 
 opened a vein and let out her best blood," 
 belongs to man on the physical and animal 
 plane. The blind fanaticism which actuated 
 it is on a par with the fanaticism of the 
 
 * " Age of Despots," by J. Addington Symonds. 
 
CENTURY OF SIR THOMAS MORE. 137 
 
 worshipper of Moloch and the cruel religious 
 rites of some of the most savage tribes. The 
 spirit is essentially the spirit of the pit ; it 
 extinguishes reason and drugs conscience ; 
 and when we find a soul thus debased, it is 
 all one whether we call him Nero or Sixtus 
 VI.,* whether we call him Domitian or Fer- 
 dinand. Moreover, man is not sufficiently 
 civilized to render it safe for him to gaze 
 upon blood ; in him as in the lion it awakens 
 a sanguinary thirst ; and the memories of all 
 that he has been flying from for ages come 
 before him so vividly that he turns from 
 reason and philosophy, and, drowning the 
 finer and diviner voices of his being, becomes 
 a persecutor and possibly a murderer. It is 
 doubly sad to remember that such degra- 
 dation of manhood is usually accomplished 
 under the name of religion.! 
 
 * Sixtus VI. authorized the reestablishing of the Inquisition ia 
 Spain in 1478. 
 
 t We must not flatter ourselves with the vain belief that we have 
 outgrown the savage impulse. Those who belong to the American 
 Sabbath Union, and others who are busily engaged in the absurd 
 attempt to resurrect the Puritan Sabbath, are in spirit the legiti- 
 mate successors of Torquemada and Alva. These fanatics have 
 recently had high-minded and sincere men and women, who find a. 
 warrant in their Bible to worship God on Saturday and not on Sun- 
 day, imprisoned for keeping the Sabbath instead of Sunday as a. 
 religious day ; and in numerous ways they are displaying the sams 
 
138 SPANISH PENINSULA DURING THE 
 
 While Spain was making preparations to 
 commit hara-kiri at a time when, had she 
 been less brutal and avaricious, she might 
 have become the leader of the world's civili- 
 zation and the most powerful nation on earth, 
 Portugal was forging to the front as a nation 
 of great importance; she had become the 
 Phoenicia of the age. The stars of Venice 
 and Genoa were setting ; that of Lisbon was 
 rising resplendent in glory. This city had 
 become a commercial metropolis. The Medi- 
 terranean was no longer large enough for 
 man ; besides, the Ottoman conquests had 
 paralyzed the Eastern commerce of the West- 
 ern states. Portugal dreamed of reaching 
 India by an untrodden path. She had founded 
 trading posts in Africa ; her capital city had 
 become a metropolis for barter ; she had es- 
 tabUshed schools for seamanship ; her people 
 gazed upon the Atlantic, and great thoughts, 
 hopes and dreams beat tumultuous in their 
 breasts. 
 
 To Lisbon came Columbus, as naturally as 
 a great artist of that age would have gone 
 
 savage spirit wliioh marked the early shadows o£ the night which 
 put out the day of the Renaissance. 
 
CENTURY OF SIE THOMAS MORE. 139 
 
 to Florence, or a religious enthusiast to Rome. 
 Lisbon looked out upon the West, upon im- 
 mensity, mystery and the future. Columbus 
 appealed to Don John IT. Had he been less 
 grasping, it is probable he would have been 
 heeded, but avariciousness and lust for power 
 were two weaknesses of Don John, and Co- 
 lumbus demanded rich rewards in treasure 
 and great power in return for what he pro- 
 posed to do for the king. The king was 
 covetous and greedy ; he was, moreover, jeal- 
 ous of the royal prerogative. It was not in 
 accordance with his policy to bestow either 
 wealth or power upon his servants. He de- 
 clined the offer, and Columbus departed for 
 the court of Ferdinand and Isabella, where 
 he was compelled to wait until Granada, the 
 stronghold of the Moors, flanked by more 
 than a thousand towers, and containing a 
 population of over two hundred thousand 
 people, surrendered. At length Columbus 
 won his suit. The islands of the new world 
 were discovered October 11, 1492, and Co- 
 lumbus returned triumphant. 
 
 The discoverer Columbus was followed by 
 the soldier Cortez, who emphasized the sav- 
 
140 SPANISH PENINSULA DURING THE 
 
 age spirit always possible when man dwells 
 on the animal plane. His atrocities form 
 one of the darkest pages in history. In 1513 
 Balboa crossed the Isthmus of Panama and 
 looked upon the mirror-like surface of the 
 Pacific. In 1519 Magellan, a Portuguese mar- 
 iner in the employ of the Spanish crown, 
 attempted the circumnavigation of the world. 
 October 21, 1520, he sailed through the 
 strait which bears his name. Six months 
 later he approached the Philippine Islands, 
 where he perished in combat with the natives. 
 His squadron, however, continued its course 
 under the command of Magellan's heutenant, 
 arriving in Spain after having circumnavi- 
 gated the globe in eleven hundred and 
 twenty-six days. 
 
 While Sjjain was acquiring a new world 
 Portugal had reached the treasure-house of 
 India, and was reaping a rich commercial 
 harvest such as Venice and Genoa in the 
 days of their supremacy had enjoyed. On 
 the 8th of July, 1497, Vasco de Gama put 
 out from Lisbon with four frail barks in 
 quest of the Indies ; he sailed around Cape 
 of Good Hope, landing at Mozambique and 
 
CENTURY OF SIB THOMAS MORE. 141 
 
 Monbaga. Thence he crossed the Indian 
 Ocean, reaching the city of Calicut May 20, 
 1498. He returned to Portugal to confirm 
 in part the wonderful stories of the East long 
 before related by Marco Polo. He pointed 
 out the supreme opportunity of Portugal to 
 acquire a trade of immense importance, a 
 fact which the government appreciated and 
 acted upon with that vigor and celerity which 
 contributed so largely toward making this 
 little nation the commercial queen of the 
 age. 
 
 D'Almeida was dispatched to India as 
 viceroy, and after earning a great victory and 
 establishing by brute force and cunning the 
 claims of Portugal, he was supplanted in his 
 of&ce by Albuquerque, the most illustrious 
 of Portuguese warriors. By the capture of 
 Socotra and Ormuz he closed the routes to 
 India of the Venetians and Mussulmans. To 
 the demand made by the shah of Persia for 
 indemnity for closing the route by way of 
 Ormuz, Albuquerque led the envoy to a heap 
 of bullets, pointing to which he made the 
 bold reply, " That is the kind of money with 
 which the king of Portugal pays his tribute." 
 
142 8PANISS PENINSULA DURING THE 
 
 Hearing that a Venetian fleet had been taken 
 to pieces at Cairo and transported by camels 
 across the desert, he made haste to destroy 
 the vessels before the owners had an oppor- 
 tunity o£ reaching the Indian Ocean. 
 
 Albuquerque conqxiered Goa and made 
 it the capital of Portuguese India. Next he 
 subdued Malacca, after which he gained for 
 Portugal an entrance to Oceanica. His brain 
 •was filled with vast schemes for the advance- 
 ment of his native land, one being the turn- 
 ing of Egypt into a desert by draining the 
 Nile into the Red Sea. He also desired to 
 destroy Mecca and Medina in retaliation for 
 the taking of Jerusalem and Constantinople 
 by the Mohammedans. It will be observed 
 that in this so-called Christian age retaliation 
 and brute force seemed to completely obscure 
 the teachings of the founder of Christianity ; 
 but, in justice to Albuquerque be it said, he 
 was one of the few conquerors of this age 
 who were respected and loved by the con- 
 quered ; long after his death the East Indians 
 were wont to go to his tomb and pray for 
 protection against the cruelty and inhumanity 
 of his successors. 
 
CENTURY OF SIR THOMAS MORE. 143 
 
 He was too great a man not to arouse 
 the jealousy and apprehension of his king ; 
 hence it is not surprising that he died poor 
 and in disgrace. There is something very 
 pathetic in the spectacle of this colossal figure, 
 who had given Portugal one of the most 
 splendid empires of the world, crying out in 
 the midst of his poverty, neglect and dis- 
 grace, " To the tomb, worn-out old man ; to 
 the tomb ! " He died in the year 1515, at 
 the age of seventy-two. After Albuquerque, 
 Soares made several important conquests, 
 Ceylon being among the number. 
 
 In speaking of the wonderful achievements 
 of Portugal during this period, Jean Victor 
 Duruy observes : 
 
 " It is difficult to conceive how in less than 
 half a century a people so small, in spite of 
 so furious and numerous oppositions, could 
 cover with its factories or dominate by its 
 fortresses a coast-line of four thousand 
 leagues. But we must realize to what degree 
 the love of lucre was excited by this com- 
 mercial revolution, and what patriotic and 
 rehgious heroism animated the first colonists 
 of India. Gama, Cabral, Albuquerque and 
 
144 SPANISH PENINSULA DURING THE 
 
 John de Castro believed themselves the 
 armed apostles of civilization and faith." 
 
 It will be seen that at the time when Italy 
 was giving the world the most glorious art 
 treasures humanity had ever beheld ; while 
 her sons were enjoying the ideals and poetry 
 and philosophy of ancient Greece ; while the 
 wonder-stories of Marco Polo were stimulat- 
 ing the imagination rather than the hands ; 
 while the mvsticism of India and that of the 
 ancient church were subtly permeating the 
 thought of some of her metaphysical think- 
 ers, and while north of the Alps the moral, 
 religious and scientific spirit was wonderfully 
 active ; at the time when the influence of the 
 printing press was beginning to be felt ; 
 when Copernicus was formulating his theory ; 
 when Erasmus, Colet, and More were dream- 
 ing of a purified church ; when Luther, 
 Zwingli, and Calvin were unconsciously pre- 
 paring to buckle on their arms for the great- 
 est religious reformation Christian Europe 
 had known, and when More was penning 
 his vision of a truer civilization, the Spanish 
 Peninsula had awakened on the side of ma- 
 terial prosperity, and had accomplished the 
 greatest commercial revolution in the history 
 
CENTUBY OF SIR THOMAS MORE. 145 
 
 o£ the race. Spain had given to Europe a 
 new world o£ undreamed-of extent, and her 
 ships had circumnavigated the globe. Por- 
 tugal, after dotting the coast of Africa with 
 factories, trading-posts and fortresses, had 
 opened as never before the door of Asia to 
 the commerce of Western civilization, and 
 had established communication from Lisbon 
 and the coast nations, by way of Cape of 
 Good Hope, to Japan. 
 
 Very marked and interesting is the three- 
 fold awakening of this century. Thus, as 
 has been observed, the multitudinous voices 
 of the time appealed irresistibly to the aes- 
 thetic and artistic impulses of the Italians, 
 to the moral and scientific spirit of the more 
 sturdy people north of the Alps, while among 
 the energetic but cruel and selfish people of 
 the Spanish Peninsula, the lust for power and 
 the greed for gold, mingled with a devotion 
 to dogmatic theology, as savage as it was 
 blind, as intense as it was unreasoning, fur- 
 nished the motor power for the wonderful 
 and, in many instances, terrible deeds which 
 shed glory and gloom over the Spain and 
 Portugal of this century. 
 
VIL— THE FRANCE OF THIS PERIOD. 
 
 The moral and intellectual awakening of the German People — The 
 artistic enthusiasm of Italy and something of the spirit of the 
 Spanish Peninsula permeated the France of this day ; though, 
 while reflecting all in a manner, she failed to lead in any direc- 
 tion— John Calvin and Eabelais the two great intellects of the 
 France of this century — A pen picture of Rabelais — Victor 
 Hugo's characterization of the great satirist. 
 
 I HAVE pointed out the intellectual quicken- 
 ing of the German people, during the cent- 
 ury we are considering, which expressed 
 itself in many significant ways, notably in 
 the scientific discoveries of Copernicus, and 
 in the invention of the printing press,* and 
 which still more remarkably displayed a 
 wonderful awakening on the moral and re- 
 ligious side of life ; an awakening which soon 
 assumed giant-like proportions, culminating 
 in the Reformation. This great movement, 
 which followed close upon the heels of the 
 new learning, affected the Teutonic mind 
 
 * To be strictly correct, the invention of the printing press was 
 made a few years before this century opened. But the first printed 
 Bible was not published until after the century opened, and it was 
 several years before the world felt the intellectual impulse given by 
 the multiplication and the cheapening of books. 
 
 146 
 
THJS FBANCE OF THIS PEBIOD. 147 
 
 almost as profoundly as did the artistic im- 
 pulse dominate the soul of the Italian life of 
 that day. We have noticed the social con- 
 ditions of Italy and observed the strong 
 lights and shadows which gave to Roman life 
 during the Renaissance an exaggerated and 
 unnatural aspect. We have furthermore 
 noticed in the Spanish Peninsula the savage 
 persecutions and religious intolerance which 
 led to the reestablishment of the Inquisition, 
 and the wonderful commercial activity which 
 resulted in the discovery of America, the 
 subjugation of a large portion of the new 
 world and the circumnavigation of the globe 
 on the part of Spain, and the discoveiy of a 
 route to the East by way of Cape of Good 
 Hope and the conquests in India by Portugal. 
 And now I wish to notice for a moment 
 France, which was bounded by the lands 
 which underwent this threefold awakening. 
 We shall find that this nation felt, and in a 
 limited way responded to, the various im- 
 pulses which dominated the three peoples 
 referred to. Calvin's voice took up the pro- 
 test of Luther, and in a short time had so 
 alarmed the church by the great number of 
 
148 THE FRANCE OF THIS PERIOD. 
 
 converts, that it began to imitate the cruel, 
 persecuting spirit of the Spain of this period, 
 and Calvin was exiled from France. But 
 subserviency on the part of Francis I. to 
 the savage spirit of the church was not suf- 
 ficiently pronounced to secure the destruc- 
 tion of Rabelais, the most original genius 
 which France gave to this century, a thinker 
 whose influence against the corruption of 
 ecclesiasticism ably seconded the work so 
 eifectively carried on by Erasmus in open- 
 ing the eyes of the people, capable of inde- 
 pendent thinking, to the evil conditions 
 around them, and especially to the supersti- 
 tious ignorance and vice of the monks of 
 that age. 
 
 Rabelais was educated for a monk. His 
 early lot seems to have been very much like 
 that of Erasmus. He joined the order of 
 the Franciscan monks, but becoming dis- 
 gusted with " the monkish system in the de- 
 based form in which it existed in his time," 
 he quitted the order without the permission 
 of his superior. Later he received pardon 
 from the pope for the violation of his vows. 
 Afterward it appears he joined the Benedic- 
 
THE FRANCE OF THIS PERIOD. 149 
 
 tine Order, which he subsequently abandonesl 
 and became a secular priest. He passed 
 through the medical university at Montpel- 
 lier, and later taught and practised the 
 healing art. His fame, however, rests on 
 his great satirical works, which assailed the 
 brutal educational system of his time, and 
 the superstition and debauchery of the monks 
 of his age, with a terrible satire that cut 
 as a two-edged sword. His works were con- 
 demned by the clergy, and had he not been 
 shielded by Francis I., he doubtless would 
 have suffered the fate of a martyr. His 
 writings, while evincing great genius, so 
 great indeed as to place him among the 
 world's first thinkers, are marred by a coarse- 
 ness, and to us a vulgarity, in ideal and ex- 
 pression, which, while probably, as is claimed, 
 in no way foreign to the ordinary popular 
 French literature of his time, are revolting 
 to present-day civilization. On this point, 
 Mr. Saintsbury, in the Encyclopaedia Britan- 
 nica, observes : " His coarseness, disgusting 
 as it is, has nothing of refined voluptuous- 
 ness about it, and nothing of the sniggering 
 indecency which disgraces men like Pope, 
 
] 50 THE FRANCE OF THIS PERIOD. 
 
 Voltaire and Sterne." Of Rabelais, Cole- 
 ridge says : " He was among the deepest as 
 well as boldest thinkers of his age. * * * I 
 class Rabelais with the great creative minds, 
 Shakespeare, Dante and Cervantes." Guizot 
 observes that there is scarcely a question of 
 importance that is not touched upon in his 
 books. The corruption of the clergy is de- 
 nounced in the strongest terms ; the rights of 
 conscience, the futility of the logomachies 
 to which scholasticism had finally degraded 
 itself, the defects of absolute government, 
 the necessity of educational reform — all 
 these points are discussed by Rabelais with 
 an amount of originality which is only 
 equalled by the uniqueness of his style and 
 the genial character of his wit. 
 
 I have dwelt at length on Rabelais, as he 
 was one of the most original thinkers of this 
 wonderful age, and because he, like Eras- 
 mus, exerted a very positive influence in 
 awakening the masses to the frightful de- 
 bauchery of the age, though his method was 
 essentially different from that of Erasmus, 
 and the very opposite of that employed 
 by the reformers. Being a satirist, he was 
 
THE FRANCE OF THIS PERIOD. 151 
 
 naturally enough misunderstood by many ; 
 but this fact did not prevent his work from 
 awakening the people to whom it appealed 
 to the degradation and brutality of his time. 
 Victor Hugo thus characterizes Rabelais : 
 "Here is a greater than Aristophanes, for 
 Aristophanes is bad — Rabelais is good — Ra- 
 belais would have defended Socrates. In the 
 order of lofty genius Rabelais chronologically 
 follows Dante. After the stern face the 
 sneering visage. Rabelais is the formidable 
 mask of ancient comedy detached from the 
 Greek proscenium ; from bronze made flesh. 
 Henceforth a human, living face ; remaining 
 enormous, and coming among us to laugh at 
 us and with us. Dante and Rabelais spring 
 from the school of the Franciscan Friars, 
 as later Voltaire springs from the Jesuits. 
 Dante, the incarnate Sorrow ; Rabelais, Par- 
 ody ; Voltaire, Irony. These issue from the 
 Church against the Church." 
 
 Had Francis I. been more of a bigot and 
 less a scholar, it would have fared ill with 
 Rabelais. But the French king had come 
 under the influence of the new learning. 
 He Avas a patron of culture and art, and 
 
152 THE FUANCE OF THIS PERIOD. 
 
 what is more, he was intelligent enough to 
 recognize the ability of a genius like Rabelais. 
 He also knew that it was the unmasking 
 of corruption which caused the monks to 
 smart under the graphic pen pictures of the 
 great satirists. Francis Avelcomed to France 
 and his court scholars and artists. Here it was 
 that Da Vinci spent the closing years of his 
 tempestuous life. There are many evidences 
 that the spirit of Italy influenced Francis 
 more than that of Germany or Spain. His 
 interest in culture was genuine. Paris ac- 
 corded a hospitable reception to the new 
 learning as early as 1458. But it is a fact 
 worthy of note that France did not distin- 
 guish herself in a marked degree in any 
 direction which boldly characterized this age, 
 although she produced two of the greatest 
 intellects of the century — Rabelais and Cal- 
 vin. On her east and north the influence 
 of the New Learning was followed by the 
 tempestuous storm of the Reformation. On 
 the southeast, the sunburst of art, the sum- 
 mer age of belles-lettres, and poetry ; on the 
 southwest, intolerance and savage bigotry, 
 coupled with the greatest commercial revolu- 
 
THE FRANCE OF THIS PERIOD. 153 
 
 tion the world has ever witnessed. Her 
 borders felt the influence of the various 
 revolutions and awakenings which England, 
 Germany, Italy, and Spain experienced, and 
 in a degree France may be said to have re- 
 sponded, but she was in no true sense a 
 leader. 
 
VIII.— THE ENGLAND OF SIR THOMAS- 
 MORE. 
 
 Englaad at the close of the Wars of the Roses— The union of the 
 throne and the privileged classes against the landless and 
 moneyless masses— Green's graphic summary of the social 
 and intellectual conditions at this time— Great interest taken 
 in astrology and occult research— Character of Henry VII. — 
 England enters upon a career of material and commercial 
 greatness — The encroachments of the crown — The Star- 
 Chamher of Henry VII. — William Caxton and his great work 
 for English Literature— Difficulties under which the scholar 
 printer labored — The influence of the New Learning in Eng- 
 land-Henry VIII. 's liberal patronage of art and letters— 
 Tyndale's Bible— More's vivid description of the misery occa- 
 sioned by the injustice of social conditions— The rise and fall 
 of Cardinal Wolsey— The pharisaism and worldliness of con- 
 ventional religion — More's observations on this subject- 
 Colet establishes St. Paul's Latin-Grammar School and lays 
 the foundation for popular and humane education — Lights 
 and shadows of this century in England. 
 
 In order that we may gain a true concep- 
 tion of the England of Sir Thomas More, it 
 is important that we glance at the conditions 
 of society at the opening of the century we 
 are considering. The Hundred Years' War 
 with France ended in MSB, and the Wars of 
 the Roses terminated with the overthrow of 
 Richard III. and the accession of Henry VII. 
 
 to the throne. During the long and bloody 
 
 154 
 
THE ENGLAND OF SIB THOMAS MORE. 155 
 
 night which marked these thirty years of 
 civil strife, many of the oldest, noblest and 
 most powerful lords of England fell on the 
 field or perished at the hands of the exe- 
 cutioner. The throne, which had been so 
 uncertain a seat, at length became secure, 
 while the great check which the feudal 
 barons had wielded over the kingly power 
 was practically removed. 
 
 Another influence which greatly aug- 
 mented the central power was the union of 
 the privileged classes against the landless 
 and moneyless masses. It was to " the selfish 
 panic of the landowners," says Green, " that 
 England owed the statute of laborers, and 
 its terrible heritage of pauperism. It was to 
 the selfish panic of landowners and merchants 
 that she owed the despotism of monarchy. 
 The most fatal effect of this passion for 
 ' order ' [the outrages of capitalism are 
 usually perpetrated in the name of order] 
 was seen in the striving of these classes after 
 special privileges." The rise of privilege 
 coincident with the arrogation of despotic 
 power by the throne, though suggestive to 
 the student of social problems, is no novelty. 
 
156 THE ENGLAND OF SIB THOMAS MORE. 
 
 It is the oft-repeated and infinitely tragic 
 story of the triumph of the cunning few 
 over the blind and shortsighted many. 
 Privilege entrenched behind authority, lend- 
 ing its aid to the latter in return for added 
 concessions and faithful service — such a 
 spectacle is so familiar to the student of his- 
 tory that its constant recurrence at length 
 changes amazement into a feeling of weari- 
 ness and almost despair for the triumph of 
 justice. Until special privileges are abol- 
 ished and a coynparative equaliti/ of op)por- 
 tunity is established, the industrial millions 
 loill remain exiles from their just inherit- 
 ance, doomed to a treadmill existence, and 
 Ijerpetually haunted loith fear of eviction, 
 starvation and a pjaupter-^ s grave. The 
 tyranny of privilege in the name of law and 
 order, and the increased despotism of the 
 throne, frequently employing the same pre- 
 text for oppression, were sad and impress- 
 ive spectacles in an age wherein the most 
 startling contrasts were everywhere present, 
 and when life and death, progression and 
 retrogression, despotism and new-born dreams 
 of freedom were clashing on every side. 
 
TEE ENGLAND OF SIB TH02IAS MORE. 157 
 
 " The speculation of the twelfth century, 
 the scholastic criticism of the thirteenth, the 
 Lollardry and socialism of the fourteenth 
 century, had at last done their work. The 
 spell of the past, the spell of custom and' 
 tradition which had enchained the minds of 
 men, was roughly broken. Nobles and 
 priests were beginning to disbelieve in them- 
 selves. The new knowledge which was now 
 dawning on the world, the new direct contact 
 with the Greek and Roman literatures, told 
 above all on the wealthier and more refined 
 classes. The young scholar or noble who 
 crossed the Alps brought from the schools of 
 Florence the dim impression of a republican 
 liberty or an imperial order which disen- 
 chanted him of the world in which he found 
 himself. He looked on the feudalism about 
 him as a brutal anarchy, he looked on the 
 church itself as the supplanter of a nobler 
 and more philosophic morality. In England, 
 as elsewhere, the great ecclesiastical body 
 still seemed imposing from the memories of 
 the past, its immense wealth, its tradition of 
 statesmanship, its long association with the 
 intellectual and religious aspirations of men, 
 
158 THE ENGLAND OF SIR THOMAS MORE. 
 
 its hold on social life. But its real power 
 was small. . Its moral inertness, its lack of 
 spiritual enthusiasm, gave it less and less 
 hold on the religious minds of the day. Its 
 energies, indeed, seemed absorbed in a mere 
 clinging to existence." * 
 
 It is difficult to estimate the extent of the 
 influence exerted by LoUardry over the minds 
 of the intellectual. At times ignored and 
 regarded with contempt by the ecclesiastical 
 and political powers, but more often treated 
 with savage and pitiless persecution, it con- 
 tinued to spread, fed as it was by the excesses 
 and the essential infidelity of ecclesiasticism 
 and the injustice which masqueraded under 
 the cloak of authority. The wholesale attack 
 upon the clergy who were tainted with their 
 greed for gold, their love of ease, and the 
 laxity of their lives, possessed sufficient truth 
 to become current to such an extent that the 
 priesthood found itself shorn in a great meas- 
 ure of its influence over the ploughman and 
 the weaver, who had for generations accepted 
 without question that which came to them 
 from the cloak and the cowl of the church. 
 
 * " History of the English People," by John Richard Green, M. A. 
 
THE ENGLAND OF SIR THOMAS MORE. 159 
 
 Another peculiarity of this period, which 
 it is interesting to note is usually present in 
 times of intellectual and moral awakening, 
 was the widespread interest in astrology, 
 magic, and occult phenomena. Green notes 
 the prevalence of this " darkest superstition " 
 with much the same spirit of commiseration 
 as that displayed by the early theological 
 assailant of the theory of evolution, who dis- 
 cussed the " degrading, absurd and atheistic 
 theory as something almost too puerile to be 
 seriously considered." Without doubt phe- 
 nomena which transcended the knowledge of 
 the people were frequently magnified, and at 
 such times ready credence was given to 
 many absurd stories and preposterous claims ; 
 but yet that does not justify a modern scholar 
 in the closing decades of the nineteenth cent- 
 ury, after the demonstration of hypnotism 
 and the well authenticated psychical phe- 
 nomena which form a distinct chapter in the 
 history of scientific advance, in dismissing 
 as though wholly baseless the widespread in- 
 terest and belief in supernormal phenomena 
 and occultism which characterized this won- 
 derful age.. 
 
160 THE ENGLAND OF SIR THOMAS MORE. 
 
 The accession of Henry VII. in 1485 
 ended the Wars of the Roses, but it also 
 marked further progress in the despotism 
 of the crown. This king- was sordid and 
 thrifty, cunning and cruel, and yet it was 
 during his reign that England entered upon 
 her career of commercial and material great- 
 ness ; by a treaty with the Netherlands in 
 1496 free exchange between the countries 
 was established ; by a treaty with Denmark 
 the Baltic was opened to the English. The 
 king furthermore encouraged maritime dis- 
 coveries, and it was under his patronage that 
 the Venetian Sebastian Gabotto, better 
 known as Cabot, discovered Newfoundland 
 and carried the flag of Great Britain to the 
 Atlantic coast of the North American con- 
 tinent. The king, moreover, encouraged 
 national industry, and induced many skilled 
 Flemish workmen to settle in England. 
 
 On the other hand : " He caused places 
 at court, and even in the church, to be pur- 
 chased. He gave bishoprics only for ready 
 money, and sold his pardons to the guilty. 
 During his reign parliament was rarely con- 
 voked. Forced loans, disguised under the 
 
THE ENGLAND OF SIR THOMAS MORE. 161 
 
 name of benevolence, arbitrary confiscations, 
 proscriptions, barbarous and unjust measures, 
 which the civil war alone had brought about, 
 acquired a sort of legality by the adherence 
 or the silence of the servile houses. Parlia- 
 ment recognized the Star Chamber, a new 
 tribunal vinder an ancient name, whose mem- 
 bers were entirely devoted to the king, and 
 which became one of the most docile instru- 
 ments and most redoubtable weapons of ab- 
 solute power. The Star Chamber in effect 
 multiplied the cases v/hich were withdrawn 
 from any connection with a jury, and which 
 put at the discretion of the agents of the 
 king the fortunes and life of all whom the 
 king wished to strike." * 
 
 Such, in brief, are some of the general 
 aspects of social and political conditions in 
 England, at the time when the author of 
 " Utopia " entered the arena of active life. 
 The striking contrasts, the strong lights and 
 deep shadows of the century of Sir Thomas 
 More will, however, be more clearly revealed 
 when we come to note more closely the 
 multitudinous forces at work, the factors 
 
 * Jean Victor Duruy, in " History of Modern Times." 
 I 
 
1(J2 THE ENGLAND OF SIR THOMAS MORE. 
 
 which must be considered, and the condi- 
 tions of the people as revealed by a more 
 intimate knowledge of these facts, during the 
 life of More. Like all revolutionary or tran- 
 sition periods, it was a time characterized by 
 wonderful activity, undaunted hope and far- 
 reaching misery. 
 
 One of the brighter aspects of the age was 
 the notable intellectual awakening. It was 
 a period of unrest for the brain of man. 
 Profound moral, spiritual and intellectual 
 agitation was everywhere visible. It was an 
 age when daring ideas were conceived and 
 great thoughts were born. It was this cent- 
 ury which laid the solid foundation for the 
 golden age of Elizabethan literature. And 
 among the decisive and influential factors 
 which contributed to the quickening of in- 
 tellectual life among the English people, 
 the work of William Caxton is entitled to 
 special consideration. It was in 1476 that 
 Caxton, who had spent more than a quarter 
 of a century in Flanders, established a print- 
 ing press in London. He was a thrifty 
 business man, but he also possessed a passion 
 for literature, rarely found among those who 
 
THE ENGLAND OF SIB THOMAS MORE. 163 
 
 understand how to drive a shrewd bargam. 
 No sooner had he established a business 
 which assured him a liveUhood by printing, 
 and supplying priests and preachers with 
 sermons and theological works, and knights 
 and barons with " joyous and pleasant histo- 
 ries of chivalry," than he entered upon his 
 labor of love by publishing the works of 
 Chaucer and other English poets. These 
 were followed by numerous works in prose, 
 and many important translations made by 
 Caxton ; more than four thousand pages 
 published by him were translations which 
 the aged printer had made. The works is- 
 sued from the Caxton press " nourished the 
 imagination of England and supplied poet 
 after poet with fine subjects for work or fine 
 frames for their subjects." * 
 
 It is impossible to measure the influence 
 of this tireless worker, whose great service to 
 English literature has never received the ap- 
 preciation it merits, and it is also difficult 
 for us to appreciate the magnitude of the 
 difficulties under which the scholar-printer 
 labored. The English language at this time 
 
 * Rev, Stoptord A. Brooke, M. A. 
 
164 THE ENGLAND OF SIR THOMAS MORE. 
 
 was undergoing a rapid transition, and the 
 dialect spoken in the various counties or 
 shires varied in so marked a degree as to 
 render the speech of one section of the island 
 unintelligible to the common people in a 
 county some miles distant. Even among 
 the more scholarly there were two rival 
 schools, one representing the " French afEec- 
 tation," the other " English pedantry." 
 In noticing this important and critical 
 moment in the history of English literature, 
 Mr. Green observes : 
 
 " It was a moment when the character of 
 our literary tongue was being settled, and it 
 is curious to see in his own words the struggle 
 over it which was going on in Caxton's time. 
 ' Some honest and great clerks have been 
 ■with me and desire me to write the most curi- 
 ous terms that I could find ; ' on the other 
 hand, ' some gentlemen of late blamed me, 
 saying that in my translations I had over 
 many curious terms which could not be un- 
 derstood of common people, and desired me 
 to use old and homely terms in my transla- 
 tions. Fain would I please every man,' 
 comments the good-humored printer, but his 
 
THE ENGLAND OF SIB THOMAS MORE. 165 
 
 sturdy sense saved him alike from the temp- 
 tations of the court and the schools. His 
 own taste pointed to English, but ' to the 
 common terms that he daily used ' rather than 
 to the English of his antiquarian advisers. 
 ' I took an old book and read therein, and 
 certainly the English was so rude and broad 
 I could not well understand it,' while the Old- 
 English characters which the Abbot of West- 
 minster lent as models from the archives of 
 his house seemed ' more like to Dutch than 
 to English.' To adopt current phraseology^ 
 however, was by no means easy at a time 
 when even the speech of common talk was in 
 a state of rapid flux. ' Our language now 
 used varleth far from that which was used 
 and spoken when I was horn.' " 
 
 The influence of the new learning upon 
 many master brains among English think- 
 ers of this period constituted another major 
 factor in the intellectual awakening of this 
 century. Grocyn, Linacre, Sir Thomas 
 More, Colet, William Lilly, and Erasmus 
 who, though a foreigner, spent much time in 
 England and contributed very materially to 
 the intellectual and religious awakening 
 
166 THE ENGLAND OF SIR THOMAS MORE. 
 
 of this era, Archbishop Warham and other 
 chosen spirits, who were endowed with vig- 
 
 o r o u s intellects 
 swayed by strong 
 moral impulses 
 and imbued with 
 the strange spell 
 of this wonderful 
 ag( 
 
 King Henry VIII. 
 
 became 
 moulders of 
 thought, and in 
 a very real way 
 contributed t o - 
 ward forming the 
 opinions of the 
 English-speaking world. 
 
 King Henry VIII. during the early years 
 of his reign also greatly aided the intellectual 
 movement by his liberal patronage of learn- 
 ing ; and it should always be remembered to 
 the credit of this king, whose reputation is 
 so darkly stained, that his encouragement of 
 literature arose from a sincere love of learn- 
 ing rather than a shallow desire to outshine 
 his brother monarchs in his patronage of 
 art and letters. On this point one of the 
 
THE ENGLAND OF SIR THOMAS MORE. 167 
 
 most careful English scholars of our time 
 observes : 
 
 " Much of the progress of prose was due 
 to the patronage of the young king. It was 
 the king who asked Lord Berners to trans- 
 late ' Froissart,' a book which in 1523 made 
 a landmark -in our tongue. It was the king 
 who supported Sir Thomas Elyot in his effort 
 to improve education, and encouraged him 
 to write books (1531-46) in the vulgar 
 tongue that he might please his countrymen. 
 It was the king who made Leland, our first 
 Enghsh writer on antiquarian subjects, the 
 ' king's antiquary,' 1533. It was the king 
 to whom Roger Ascham dedicated his first 
 work, and who sent him abroad to pursue 
 his studies. This book, the ' Toxophilus, or 
 the School of Shooting,' 1545, was written 
 for the pleasure of the yeomen and gentle- 
 men of England in their own tongue." * 
 
 WilHam Tyndale's translation of the New 
 Testament into the English tongue, in the 
 year 1525, was a most important work in its 
 influence upon the English tongue, as " it 
 fixed the standard English once for all, and 
 
 * Rev. Stopford A. Brooke. 
 
168 TEE ENGLAND OF SIB THOMAS MORE. 
 
 brought it finally into every English home. 
 Tyndale held fast to pure English. In his 
 two volumes of political tracts there are only 
 twelve Teutonic words which are now obso- 
 lete." 
 
 Turning from a view of the intellectual 
 side-life to a contemplation of the condition 
 of the masses, we find that for the poor man 
 this century was essentially tragic. Feud- 
 alism, as has been intimated, was rapidly 
 giving place to a new social order, and as a 
 result the retainers and the hosts of humble 
 laborers who had long been a part of the 
 feudal organism — dependents upon the vari- 
 ous noble houses — were cast adrift. Large 
 areas of farming lands were being turned into 
 pastures for sheep, as wool-growing was less 
 expensive and more remunerative than farm- 
 ing. The very poor were the prey of the 
 landlord an(J capitalist. 
 
 The courts were so solicitous for the in- 
 terests of the rich that rigid statutes were 
 reenacted against the laborers, which arbi- 
 trarily fixed the maximum scale of prices 
 which might be paid. The lawful wage price 
 varied in the different seasons, but the avei"- 
 
THE ENGLAND OF SIR THOMAS MORE. 169 
 
 age for the year was 6| pence (thirteen cents) 
 per day for skilled workmen among such 
 trades as glaziers, carpenters, bricklayers and 
 plumbers. The wages fixed for common 
 workmen averaged 3^ pence (seven cents) per 
 day. No provisions were made for the old, 
 sick or decrepit. Evictions were very com- 
 mon. Multitudes were being reduced every 
 year to beggary, and the beggars were liable 
 to imprisonment under a cruel statute against 
 vagrants. In all periods characterized by 
 heartlessness and a selfish unconcern for 
 others, we find a low value placed on human 
 life, and the savagery of this time is nowhere 
 more vividly illustrated than in the whole- 
 sale execution of thieves. It was no uncom- 
 mon thing for a score of thieves to be hanged 
 from a single gallows. 
 
 Nowhere do we find a more graphic or 
 trustworthy picture of the social and economic 
 conditions of this period than in the first 
 book of " Utopia," which, it will be remem- 
 bered, was written by Sir Thomas More for 
 the purpose of calling the attention of 
 Henry VIII. to the pitiable state of the 
 masses, and at the same time pointing out a 
 
170 THE ENGLAND OF SIR THOMAS MORE. 
 
 method of dealing with serious social prob- 
 lems wiser and more humane than the pre- 
 vailing system. In this work, under the 
 mask of an imaginary conversation carried 
 on by a learned traveller and other guests 
 in the house of Cardinal Morton, More 
 boldly depicts prevailing conditions. He 
 represents a lawyer present who, after the 
 manner of conventionalists, praised " the 
 straight and rigorous justice which was exe- 
 cuted upon felons " ; these, he explained, 
 were being hanged in twenties upon huge 
 gallows erected to accommodate a score of 
 victims. This conservative upholder of the 
 sanctity of inhuman laws, however, expressed 
 himself at a loss to understand how, in the 
 presence of such rigorous statutes and the 
 general enforcement of the same, thieves 
 multiplied on every hand. 
 
 Then Sir Thomas More puts into the 
 mouth of Raphael Hythloday his views 
 concerning the cause of the theft and the 
 injustice of the punishment, from which we 
 incidentally gain an insight into social con- 
 ditions. He assures the prophet of con- 
 ventionalism that there is no punishment so 
 
THE ENGLAND OF SIR THOMAS MORE. 171 
 
 terrible that it will keep " them from steal- 
 ing which have no other craft whereby to 
 get their living ; therefore," he continues, 
 " on this point not you only, but also the 
 most part of the world, be like evil school- 
 masters, which be readier to beat than to 
 teach their scholars. For great and horrible 
 punishments be appointed for thieves, 
 whereas, much rather provision should have 
 been made that there were some means 
 whereby they might get their living so 
 that no man should be driven to this 
 extreme necessity — first to steal and then to 
 die." 
 
 He then points out how numbers who 
 " have come home frord the wars, maimed 
 and lamed, are no longer able to ply their 
 old trades, yet they must eat in order to 
 live." A second class who had been the 
 retainers of lords and noblemen, and who 
 had never learned a trade, being overtaken 
 by sickness, age, or through the changing 
 events of the transition period in which they 
 lived, suddenly found themselves without 
 home, food or means of a livelihood, and 
 were confronted by the stern alternative to 
 
172 THE ENGLAND OF SIR THOMAS MORE. 
 
 " starve to death " or to " manfully play the 
 thief," for no man would, hire them, as the 
 market was glutted with skilled workmen. 
 The misery incident to the mania for sheep- 
 raising is next alluded to as a fruitful 
 cause of the increase of the homeless and 
 destitute. 
 
 After drawing a very graphic picture of 
 the transformation by which multitudinous 
 small farms were being changed into vast 
 grazing areas, Sir Thomas More continues : 
 " Therefore, that one covetous and insatiable 
 cormorant may compass about and enclose 
 many thousand acres of ground together 
 within one pale or hedge, the husbandmen 
 be thrust out of their own, or else by cun- 
 ning and fraud or by violent oppression 
 they be put beside it, or by wrongs and 
 injuries they be so wearied that they be 
 compelled to sell all : by one means, there- 
 fore, or by another, by hook or by crook, 
 they must needs depart away, poor wretched 
 souls, men, women, husbands, wives, father- 
 less children, widows, and woeful mothers 
 with their young babes. Away they trudge, 
 out of their known and accustomed houses, 
 
THE ENGLAND OF SIR THOMAS MORE. 173 
 
 finding no place to rest in. All their house- 
 hold stuff they are forced to sell for a pit- 
 tance, and when they have wandered abroad 
 till that is spent, what can they then do but 
 steal and be hanged, or beg and be cast into 
 prison as vagabonds because they work not 
 when no man will give them work though 
 they ever so willingly proffer themselves 
 thereto ? Thus the unreasonable conclusion 
 of a few hath turned that thing to the 
 utter undoing of the island in the which 
 thing the chief felicity of the realm did 
 consist." 
 
 Our author next points out how prostitu- 
 tion, drinking and gambling were rapidly 
 increasing in the selfish and brutal atmos- 
 phere engendered by such a state of things, 
 after which he makes an impassioned appeal 
 for more just conditions. " Cast out," he 
 exclaims, "these pernicious abominations; 
 make a law that they who pluck down farms 
 and towns of husbandry shall replace them, 
 or else surrender the possession thereof to 
 such as will go to the cost of building them 
 anew. Suffer not these rich men to buy up 
 all, to engross and forestall and with their 
 
174 THE ENGLAND OF SIR THOMAS MORE. 
 
 monojjoly to keep the market alone as 
 pleases them." 
 
 A further glimpse is given of the criminal 
 arrogance and crushing injustice of capi- 
 talism at that time in these striking words, 
 which it must be remembered were not 
 written after the age had passed, nor loere 
 they the utterance of an irresp)onsihle 
 iconoclast. On the other hand, they were 
 the judicial statements made to the crown 
 by one of England's foremost barristers and 
 her most enlightened statesman ; hence, they 
 may be regarded as authoritative. " The 
 rich men," observes Sir Thomas More, 
 " not only by p)rii-atc fraud, hut also hy 
 common laws, do every day pluck and 
 snatch away from the poor some part of 
 their daily living. Therefore, when I con- 
 sider and weigh in my mind these common- 
 wealths which nowadays do flourish, I per- 
 ceive nothing hut a certain consinracy of 
 j'ich men jjrocuring their oton commodities 
 render the name and title of the common- 
 wealth. They invent and devise all means 
 and crafts — first how to keep safety without 
 fear of losing that which they have unjustly 
 
THE ENGLAND OF SIR THOMAS MORE. 175 
 
 gathered together, and next how to hire 
 and abuse the work and labor of the poor 
 for as little money as may be." 
 
 The descriptive lines of Sir Thomas More 
 are exceedingly valuable, giving as they do 
 a vivid picture of the pitiable condition of 
 the poor during his age, and also afEording 
 a valuable illustration of the way the masses 
 suffer during a transition period, before they 
 come to realize that their high and sacred 
 duty is found in overthrowing the demoraliz- 
 ing and criminal conditions by which a few 
 are enabled to crush the many, while society 
 is debased throughout all its ramifications. 
 
 Another element which contributed greatly 
 to the distress of the poor during the reigns 
 of the Tudors was tlie excessive taxation. 
 This was probably at no time more crushing 
 in its effect than during the early years of 
 the reign of Henry VIII., when Wolsey was 
 in his glory and while the king was squander- 
 ing vast sums in unfortunate experiments at 
 war and in wicked extravagance, indulged 
 in for the purpose of dazzling neighboring 
 kings and princes with his wealth and power. 
 To replenish the exhausted treasury it was 
 
176 THE ENGLAND OF SIR THOMAS MORE. 
 
 found necessary to levy an income tax of 
 sixpence on the pound, " extending even to 
 the "wage of the wretched agricultural laborer 
 in order to secure the sum demanded. This 
 terrible tax was twice repeated in one year." 
 Wolsey was then prime minister, and this 
 intellectual though unscrupulous statesman 
 and prelate was merciless in his exactions. 
 He was inordinately ambitious. It was not 
 enough for him to be prince of the church 
 and prime minister of England — he coveted 
 the papal chair ; but, to secure this prize, it 
 was necessary that he amass vast sums of 
 money. He must also make friends of the 
 Emperor Charles V. and King Francis I., 
 while continuing to hold sway over the mind 
 of Henry. A less daring soul never would 
 have dreamed of accomplishing such a feat ; 
 a more keen-sighted man would have dis- 
 missed it as too visionary to be seriously 
 considered. But with the papal chair ever 
 before him, Wolsey relentlessly oppressed 
 the people that he might humor his king and 
 furnish him with all the money he desired to 
 squander on empty show, not forgetting for 
 a moment to gather a goodly fortune for the 
 
THE ENGLAND OF SIB THOMAS MORE. 177 
 
 furtherance of his private aims when the 
 propitious moment should arrive. These 
 were indeed tragic days for the poor. 
 
 Froude in his own inimitable way thus 
 depicts the fall of Wolsey: "But the time 
 for reckoning at length was arrived ; slowly 
 the hand had crawled along the dial-plate — 
 slowly as if the event would never come ; 
 and wrong was heaped on wrong, and op- 
 pression cried and it seemed as if no ear 
 heard its voice, till the measure of the circle 
 was at length fulfilled — the finger touched 
 the hour, and as the stroke of the great 
 hammer rang out above the nation, in an 
 instant the great fabric of iniquity was 
 shivered into ruins." 
 
 As might be imagined, with such a man 
 as Wolsey at the head of spiritual affairs as 
 well as prime minister of the realm, and with 
 the church strong and wealthy, true religion 
 languished, while the pharisaism and dog- 
 matism which always prosper during the 
 decadence of the religious spirit increased. 
 In a reply to a monk who had assailed the 
 writings of Erasmus, Sir Thomas More, than 
 whom there was no more sincere or devoted 
 
178 THE ENGLAND OF SIR THOMAS 210 RE. 
 
 Catholic in the realm, thus refers to the 
 monks throughout England : " There are 
 multitudes enough who would be afraid that 
 the Devil would come upon them and take 
 them alive to Hell, if forsooth they were to 
 set aside their usual garb, whom nothing can 
 move when they are grasping at money. 
 Are there only a few, think you, who would 
 deem it a crime to be expiated with many 
 tears, if they were to omit a line in their 
 hourly prayers, and yet have no fearful 
 scruples at all when they profane themselves 
 with the worst and most infamous lives ? " 
 More then describes a case which had come 
 under his personal observation,where the head 
 of a convent employed assassins to commit a 
 crime for him. All the guilty parties were 
 at length overtaken by the law, and the as- 
 sassins described how they appeased the 
 Holy Virgin " by a salutation on their bended 
 knees," after which with clear conscience 
 they set about to perpetrate the crime for 
 which they had been hired by the " religious 
 man." 
 
 We must not, however, regard Cardinal 
 Wolsey as the author of these deplorable 
 
THE ENGLAND OF SIR THOMAS MORE. 179 
 
 conditions ; the causes of corruption had for 
 generations been eating into the reUgious 
 and secular life of the English people. 
 Green, in speaking of the period which im- 
 mediately preceded the century of Sir Thomas 
 More, makes this general observation on the 
 condition of religion throughout Europe: 
 " Pope and king, bishop and noble, vied 
 with each other in greed, in self-seeking, in 
 lust, in faithlessness, in a pitiless cruelty. 
 It is this moral degradation that flings so 
 dark a shadow over the Wars of the Roses. 
 From no period in our annals do we turn 
 with such weariness and disgust." 
 
 But while these deplorable conditions 
 prevailed to a great extent throughout the 
 church in England, it was also at this time 
 that two tremendous protests were made ; 
 one came through the apostles of the new 
 learning, the other through the popular 
 reformation inaugurated on the continent. 
 This second factor in the revolution of 
 public thought, however, did not gain much 
 foothold for many years ; but after it had once 
 aroused the mind of the masses, it became a 
 great power which the stake and the dun- 
 
180 THE ENGLAND OF SIR THOMAS MORE. 
 
 geon were powerless to overcome. It was 
 in the springtime of the revolution born o£ 
 the new learning when Colet called down 
 upon his head the anathemas of conventional 
 ecclesiastics by his able and common-sense 
 exposition of the New Testament ; and it 
 was at this time also that he excited the de- 
 rision of the defenders of the barbarous old 
 methods of teaching, by establishing the 
 Latin-grammar school of St. Paul for the 
 education of boys in a humane manner. 
 The foundation of this school was a memo- 
 rable event in the educational history of 
 England. It was presided over by William 
 Lilly, the eminent grammarian, and may be 
 said to have laid the foundation for a broad 
 common or popular education ; it was the 
 seed germ of which the magnificent public- 
 school system of om- day and land is the 
 opening flower. The experiment proved 
 immediately successful, so much so that 
 between the year 1500 and the rise of the 
 reformation in England, at least a score of 
 similar schools had been established on the 
 island. 
 
 It will be seen that this was a century of 
 
THE ENGLAND OF SIB THOMAS MORE. 181 
 
 high lights and deep shadows, a century of 
 wild, tumultuous hope and daring thought, 
 of sullen discontent and pitiful sufEering. 
 It was a time of startling contrasts, as are 
 all great transition periods, and amid the 
 strife and sufEering, the hope and despair, 
 which existed throughout life we find the 
 foundations for glorious achievements being 
 securely laid, and from the brain of great 
 prophet-souls we behold luminous thought- 
 children leaping forth, destined to prove 
 torchbearers for the pioneers of progress in 
 the generations which are to follow. 
 
IX.— THE LIFE OF SIR THOMAS MORE. 
 
 Men of imaginatioa and genius in times of intellectual and moral 
 transition— Their power and their peril— Sir Thomas More : 
 a man who received divine ideals, and who was also power- 
 fully influenced by men of positive convictions who held ideals 
 opposite to those he had enunciated — The difficulty prosaic 
 historians have in appreciating men of the character of More- 
 General social conditions which environed the great English 
 philosopher — The intellectual atmosphere of the time— Change 
 written over every doorway of research^Youth and school- 
 life of More— Colet founds St. Paul's Latin School— More's 
 love divided between the new and the old order— The youth- 
 ful philosopher contemplates becoming a monk, but changes 
 his mind and marries — He enters parliament and defeats the 
 demands of Henry VII. — More's retirement to private life — 
 Early years of the reign of Henry "VIII.— More's Utopia— The 
 encouragement the apostles of the new learning received 
 from Henry VIII.—More writes Utopian-More and Machiavelli 
 contrasted — Erasmus' description of More— His achievements 
 at Henry's court — The storm of religious revolt reaches Eng- 
 land—Henry and the Papal See — More foresees the coming 
 storm — He grows more and more conservative as the cleavage 
 between the new and old thought becomes more pronounced — 
 Persecutions while More was Lord Chancellor— Resigns his 
 position — Refuses to take the oath under the Supremacy Act — 
 Is arrested and executed— His family life— Estimate of the 
 man. 
 
 To the casual observer the life of Sir 
 Thomas More presents so many contradic- 
 tions that it will prove an enigma unless he 
 is acquainted with the type of individual to 
 
 which the philosopher belonged ; the cold, 
 182 
 
THE LIFE OF SIR THOMAS MORE. 183 
 
 calculating intellect little understands, much 
 less appreciates, a mind so profoundly sen- 
 sitive to the varied and multitudinous influ- 
 ences of environment as that of the author 
 of " Utopia." His brain received and re- 
 flected the complex and frequently opposing 
 influences of his wonderful time as did the 
 mind of no other man of his epoch. His 
 intellect was largely swayed by the thought 
 waves which beat upon the brain of his cent- 
 ury with a force and persistency hitherto 
 unknown. He felt most keenly, and with 
 a sympathy for both, the struggle between 
 the old and the new. But he also felt the 
 higher and diviner thought waves — those 
 subtle influences which inspired Angelo, and 
 drove with tireless energy the brush of Ra- 
 phael. He was a man of vivid imagination, 
 but, true to the spirit of his country in this 
 age, the divine afflatus which came to him 
 awakened the ethical nature, while in sunny 
 Italy it spoke to the artistic impulses. 
 
 In great transition periods there are always 
 a few children of genius, who hear some- 
 thing higher than the din and tumult below 
 — lofty souls who hear a voice calling them 
 
184 THE LIFE OF SIR THOMAS MORE. 
 
 to ascend the mountain of the ideal and 
 catch glimpses of the coming dawn ; these 
 chosen ones bear messages from the Infinite 
 to humanity. They behold the promised 
 land from the heights, and they return with 
 a word and a picture ; but to the careless 
 rich, the frivolous, the poor, who are ab- 
 sorbed in self, to the slow-thinking and the 
 slaves to intellectual conventionalism, their 
 messages are as sounding brass and a tink- 
 ling cymbal. They wdio speak of peace, prog- 
 ress and happiness through altruism usually 
 find that they have spoken in an unknown 
 tongue to prince and pauper. But their 
 messages are not in vain ; the true word 
 once given will not return barren. It touches 
 some awakened intellects, it kindles a fire 
 which burns brighter and brighter with each 
 succeeding generation. The ideal once given 
 becomes an inspiration. The prophet is the 
 annunciator of the Infinite. The eternal 
 law of justice and progress, when once it is 
 more broadly and truly stated, sits in judg- 
 ment on individuals, societies and nations. 
 
 The philosopher who ascends the mount- 
 ain of the ideal receives truths larger and 
 
THE LIFE OF SIB THOMAS MORE. 185 
 
 more potential for good than aught man has 
 before conceived. But when he returns to 
 earth, that is to say, when he is jostled by 
 the positive thoughts of positive brains, 
 when he is confronted by dominant ideas 
 struggling to maintain supremacy in the em- 
 pire of thought, he is in peril ; that which 
 was a blessing upon the mount becomes a 
 dirge in the valley, for unless he is great 
 enough to hold steadfastly to the high new 
 truth, and rise above sensuous feeling, per- 
 sonal ambition and innate prejudices, he is 
 likely to yield to the psychic forces in the 
 atmosphere below. Then he falls, and the 
 fall is pitiful, for after calling the world to 
 judgment by a great new ideal of truth, he 
 rejects the divine message which he has 
 uttered, and by it is condemned. Painful to 
 relate, this was, I think, to a great degree 
 true of Sir Thomas More, as we shall 
 presently see. 
 
 But the point I wish to illustrate just now 
 is the liability on the part of historians and 
 biographers to misjiidgepersons who are pro- 
 foundly sensitive, and endowed with a wealth 
 of imagination, but who also possess deep- 
 
186 THE LIFE OF SIR THOMAS MORE. 
 
 rooted convictions — men who love the good 
 in the old, and yet yearn for the new; 
 those who in moments of ecstasy speak for 
 the ages to come, but when oppressed by 
 the fear and prejudice which environ them, 
 reflect the dominant impulses of the present. 
 Without a clear understanding of the mental 
 characteristics of such natures, it will be im- 
 possible to understand, much less sympathize 
 with, the noblest and most far-seeing English 
 philosopher of his age. 
 
 Sir Thomas More was born when the 
 twilight of medisevalism was paling before 
 the dawn of modern times. Feudalism had 
 lived its day ; there were everywhere the 
 signs of a coming storm. The conditions of 
 the poor had grown most pitiful. The am- 
 bition of kings had received a strange new 
 impulse ; the superior rulers surged forward 
 toward absolute power, with a confidence 
 and recklessness which cowed the feudal 
 lords. The popes, as we have seen, in many 
 instances were secular potentates rather than 
 spiritual fathers. Dreams of conquest swelled 
 in the breasts of those born to the ermine, 
 those who had risen to the scarlet cap, 
 
THE LIFE OF SIR THOMAS MORE. 187 
 
 and those who had achieved position and 
 power by the possession of miUtary genius 
 and daring, aided by the fortunes of war. 
 But while the anarchy of feudal brigandage 
 was giving way before a more centralized 
 and (in a way) orderly rule, while kings were 
 engrossed with plans for personal aggran- 
 dizement, scholars, scientists and skilled 
 artisans were intoxicated by an intellectual 
 stimulation seldom if ever equalled in the 
 history of the race. Some were revelling in 
 the rediscovered treasures of ancient Greece ; 
 some were brooding over the wonder-stories 
 of the far East. Artists and sculptors were 
 transferring to canvas and marble the mar- 
 vellous dreams which haunted their imagina- 
 tion. Gutenberg had recently invented the 
 printing press, Copernicus was interrogating 
 the stars, and another profound dreamer was 
 gazing upon the western ocean with a ques- 
 tion and a hope — one of which would not 
 be silenced, the other so big as to appear 
 wild and absurd to the imagination of small 
 minds. At this momentous time, when the 
 clock of the ages was ringing in the advent 
 of an epoch which should mark a tremendous 
 
188 THE LIFE OF SIR THOMAS MORE. 
 
 onward stride in the advance of humanity — 
 at this time when change was written over 
 every great door of thought or research 
 throughout civilization, Sir Thomas More 
 was born. 
 
 At an early age he was sent to St. An- 
 thony's school in London ; afterward he 
 entered the home of Cardinal Morton as 
 a page ; here his fine wit and intellectual 
 acuteness greatly impressed the learned 
 prelate, who on one occasion remarked, 
 " This child here waiting on the table will 
 prove a marvellous man." On the advice of 
 the cardinal, young More was sent to Oxford 
 University, where a strong friendship grew 
 up between the youth and Colet. At Ox- 
 ford Thomas More learned something of 
 Greek. From this college his father re- 
 moved him to New Inn that he might per- 
 fect himself in law ; still later he entered 
 Lincoln's Inn, where he continued his studies 
 until he was ready for admission to the bar. 
 
 Shortly before Thomas More entered Ox- 
 ford, England began to respond to the in- 
 tellectual revolution which had aroused the 
 advanced scholarship of the continent. In 
 
THE LIFE OF SIR THOMAS MORE. 189 
 
 a few years, thanks to a few bold, brave 
 men. Great Britain was convulsed with a 
 religious and intellectual revolution which 
 struck terror to the old schoolmen and the 
 conventional theologians. In 1485 Linacre 
 and Grocyn visited Italy, where they dili- 
 gently studied under some of the great 
 masters who were making Florence the most 
 famous seat of culture in Europe. Linacre 
 was tutored by Poliziano. In 1493 Colet 
 visited Italy and came under the influence 
 of Pico deUa Mirandola and Savonarola. 
 These three scholars returned to England, 
 fired with moral and intellectual enthusiasm 
 and touched by the dawning spirit of scien- 
 tific inquiry. Linacre and Grocyn taught 
 Greek at Oxford; later, the former founded 
 the college of physicians of London. Colet 
 broke away from the scholastic methods of 
 medisevalism and startled England no less 
 by his handling the New Testament in 
 a plain, common-sense way than by his plea 
 for a purified church. Later he proved how 
 deep were his convictions and how sincere 
 his desire for a higher and truer civilization, 
 by devoting the fortune left him by his 
 
190 TUB LIFE OF SIR THOMAS MORE. 
 
 father to the founding of St. Paul's Latin- 
 grammar school, where children were to 
 receive kind consideration instead of being 
 subjected to the brutal treatment which 
 characterized the education of that time,* 
 and where, under the wisest and most 
 humane teachers, " the young might," as 
 the founder expressed it, "proceed to 
 grow." In this noble innovation Colet laid 
 the foundation for that rational and popular 
 system of education which has grown to 
 such splendid proportions throughout the 
 English-speaking world, and which prob- 
 ably finds its most perfect expression in the 
 public-school system of the United States. 
 
 We now come to a passage in the life of 
 Thomas More, which calls for special notice, 
 as it illustrates the intensity of his religious 
 convictions even when a youth. Had the 
 philosopher been born a few years earlier, 
 in all probability not only would he never 
 have written " Utopia," but we should 
 doubtless have found him among the fore- 
 most enemies of the new order. Through- 
 
 * " Youths were brutally beaten at that tihie at school ; it being 
 an all but universally accepted precept that ' Boys' spirits must 
 be subdued.' " — Maurice Adams. 
 
THE LIFE OF SIR THOMAS MORE. 191 
 
 out his life he ever exhibited a divided love. 
 The new learning and the spirit of the dawn 
 wooed and fascinated him, until he paused 
 long enough to realize how rapidly old things 
 were falling away ; then a great fear came 
 upon him lest the church should go down, 
 and civilization degenerate into barbarism. 
 He was by turns the most luminous mind 
 among the philosophers of the dawn, and 
 the most resolute defender of conventional 
 reUgion. In this he reflected the varying 
 intellectual atmosphere which environed his 
 sensitive and psychical mind, and which 
 sprang from ideas and influences which 
 challenged his confidence or coincided with 
 his convictions. When he had completed his 
 education, he and William Lilly (afterward 
 head master of the Latin-grammar school 
 founded by Colet) determined to forswear 
 the world and become monks. For four 
 years they dwelt at Charter-house, subjecting 
 themselves to the most severe discipline, 
 scourging their bodies on Friday, wearing 
 coarse hair shirts next the skin, and living 
 upon the coarsest fare. Whether close 
 acquaintance with the monkish life of that 
 
19i- THE LIFE OF SIR THOMAS MORE. 
 
 time disillusioned More, as it had disillu- 
 sioned Erasmus some years before ; whether 
 the entreaties of Colet and Erasmus, or the 
 passion excited by the bright eyes and sweet 
 winning manners of Miss Colt, whom he 
 frequently met when visiting her father's 
 home at that time, served to make him 
 forego his determination to become a monk, 
 we know not ; perhaps all these exerted an 
 influence. Erasmus disposes of the question 
 in this characteristic expression, " He fell in 
 love, and thought a chaste husband was 
 better than a profligate monk." And thus 
 instead of taking vows he married Miss 
 Colt and renewed the study of law. 
 
 In 1504 More was elected to a parliament 
 convened by Henry VH. to extort money 
 from the impoverished people in the form 
 of " reasonable aids, on the occasion of the 
 marriage of his daughter and the knighting 
 of his son." The subsidy demanded from 
 the wi-etchedand oppressed people amounted 
 to considerably over half a million dollars 
 (■£113,000) ; a sum of this size at that time 
 Avas equivalent to many times a like amount 
 to-day, for the medium of exchange was then 
 
THE LIFE OF SIS THOMAS MORE. 193 
 
 SO scarce that a fat ox sold for twenty-six 
 shillings, a fat wether for three shillings and 
 sixpence, and a chicken brought a penny.* 
 The parliament had grown so servile in the 
 presence of the growing despotism of the 
 crown, that only one voice was raised against 
 the measure, and. that voice was Thomas 
 More's, then a beardless youth. He de- 
 nounced the demand as extortionate and un- 
 reasonable ; he showed how the people were 
 oppressed and overtaxed; how an increase 
 of taxation would mean added misery to the 
 English people. Reason after reason was 
 advanced for denying or at least substantially 
 reducing the amount demanded ; argument 
 after argument, clear and convincing, fortified 
 each reason advanced. The members of 
 parliament were stirred even while they 
 sat in amazement at the unmatched daring 
 of the gifted youth. Something of the old- 
 time fire and love of liberty filled their craven 
 minds. They began to behold how low they 
 had fallen by surrendering their manhood 
 and the sacred trust given them through fear 
 of losing their heads. The friends of the 
 
 * Froude's History of England, vol. i. pp. 30-32. 
 13 
 
194 TBE LIFE OF SIR THOMAS MORE. 
 
 king were astounded ; they gazed at one 
 another in blank amazement : the reckless 
 audacity of this youth who stood as the in- 
 carnate voice of justice pleading the cause of 
 the poor menaced the throne. At length 
 the fearless orator resumed his seat, and so 
 clear, logical and unanswerable had been 
 his plea, that for a moment the members of 
 parliament forgot their role of puppets and 
 became men. The demand was rejected, and 
 in its stead an allowance of about f 150,000 
 (£30,000) was granted, whereupon a Mr. 
 Tyler, one of the members of the king's privy 
 chamber, who was present, brought the king 
 word that his demand had been denied, owing 
 to the eloquent opposition of a " beardless 
 boy." The king was at once enraged and 
 alarmed ; he could find no cause for the im- 
 mediate arrest of the ofPender, so he sought 
 to wreak vengeance on the father ; a com- 
 plaint was accordingly trumped up, and old 
 Mr. More was sent to the Tower, where he 
 remained until he paid a fine of five hundred 
 dollars (£100). Thomas More now retired 
 to private life, and was preparing to leave 
 England owing to disquieting rumors which 
 
TEE LIFE OF SIR THOMAS MOHE. 195 
 
 came to him of the kmg's displeasure, when 
 Henry VII. died. 
 
 With the accession of Henry VIII. to the 
 tlirone, the star of the apostles of culture 
 rose. The king espoused the cause of the 
 new learning, and More, Colet, and Erasmus 
 and their companions basked in the royal 
 favor. In vain the Trojans, as the defenders 
 of conventionalism were called, denounced 
 the new learning, and at length Henry 
 VIII. silenced the " brawlers." One of this 
 class took occasion to denounce the heresies 
 of Erasmus in a sermon before the king. 
 After the discourse he was summoned to the 
 presence of Henry, and there interrogated; 
 More being present answered the arguments 
 advanced by the dogmatist. At length, 
 finding it impossible to cope with More, 
 the priest fell at the feet of the king. He 
 was trembling with terror as he implored 
 the king's forgiveness, saying he had been 
 carried away "by the spirit." "But," said 
 Henry, " that spirit was not the spirit of Christ, 
 but of foolishness " Next the king asked 
 him if he had read the works of Erasmus ; 
 the priest acknowledged that he had not. 
 
196 THE LIFE OF SIR THOMAS MORE. 
 
 " Then you prove yourself a fool," cried the 
 king, " for you condemn what you have never 
 read." This illustration indicates the at- 
 titude of Henry VIII. toward the apostles of 
 the new learning during the early years of 
 his reign. 
 
 In 1515 More was sent with a royal em- 
 bassy to the Low Countries to settle a quarrel 
 between Henry VIII. and Prince Charles. 
 While in Flanders, More heard wonderful 
 stories of the new world, and also the fabled 
 land of India now opened, nay more, all but 
 conquered, by Portugal. The very air of 
 Flanders was vibrating with that restlessness 
 which comes over men when life becomes 
 more dignified and its possibilities greater. 
 Wonder trod upon the heels of wonder, and 
 a great hope filled the minds of the com- 
 mercial world, no less than the realm of the 
 thinkers. While here, More wrote the 
 second part of " Utopia." The first part 
 was not written until after his return to 
 England. 
 
 The publication of " Utopia " revealed 
 afresh the superb courage of its author ; it 
 was a thinly disguised satire on England. 
 
THE LIFE OF SIR THOMAS MORE. 197 
 
 It contrasted the England of his time with 
 what England might and should he. It 
 was written to influence, if possible, a head- 
 strong, vainglorious and extravagant young 
 king, who during six years of his reign had 
 involved his country in an ignominious war, 
 which had drained the well-filled coffers left 
 by Henry VII. ; a young king who was now 
 insisting on levying the enormous income 
 tax of sixpence on the pound, and insisting 
 that the tax extend to the miserable, half- 
 starved agricultural laborers. Henry VIII. 
 greatly admired Thomas More, but only a 
 thinker who placed conviction above even 
 life would have dared put forth a work so 
 bold and so well calculated to open the eyes 
 of the people to the shallow pretences as 
 well as the criminality of the rich and power- 
 ful. Artemus Ward speaks of a man who 
 was fifteen years confined in a dungeon ; 
 one day an idea struck him — he opened the 
 window and climbed out. Now, "Utopia" 
 was calculated to show the sturdy English- 
 men the window, and King Henry was no 
 dolt — indeed, he was a man of strong mental 
 power and quick perceptions ; he was as 
 
198 THE LIFE OF SIR THOMAS MORE. 
 
 headstrong and despotic as he was intellectu- 
 ally acute ; hence Thomas More in publish- 
 ing " Utopia " displayed that same superb 
 courag-e which he evinced in his strenuous 
 opposition to the extravagant demand of 
 Henry VII. 
 
 How striking in contrast was the action 
 of Machiavelli, who at this time had finished 
 " The Prince," and was industriously seeking 
 some method of bringing it before the at- 
 tention of one of the ambitious despots of 
 Italy ! More risked the king's displeasure, 
 and indeed his own freedom, to win a greater 
 measure of happiness for the people and to 
 advance civilization. Machiavelli sought to 
 destroy freedom and the rights of man by 
 furnishing a diabolical treatise for the private 
 perusal of a tyrant, hoping thereby to win 
 an important position as counsellor for the 
 despot, and also to gain wealth. The mo- 
 tives which actuated these two great writers 
 on political economy were as unlike as were 
 their works ; from one fountain flowed hope 
 and light, from the other poison and dark- 
 ness. 
 
 King Henry took " Utopia " in good part, 
 
THE LIFE OF SIB THOMAS MORE. 199 
 
 and instead o£ disgracing the intrepid author, 
 he knighted him ; he promoted him from 
 time to time, making him treasurer o£ the 
 exchequer, speaker of the House of Com- 
 mons, and at length, when Wolsey fell, he 
 was made lord chancellor of England. More 
 was then fifty-one years old. His personal 
 appearance has been thus graphically de- 
 scribed by Erasmus : 
 
 " He is of middle height, well-shaped, 
 complexion pale, without a flush of color in 
 it save when the shin flushes. The hair is 
 black shot with yellow, or yellow shot with 
 black ; beard scanty, eyes gray, with dark 
 spots, an eye supposed in England to indi- 
 cate genius, and to be never found except in 
 remarkable men. The expression is pleasant 
 and cordial, easily passing into a smile, for 
 he has the quickest sense of the ridiculous 
 of any man I ever met. The right shoulder 
 is higher than the left, the result of a trick 
 in walking, not from a physical defect. The 
 rest is in keeping. The only sign of rustic- 
 ity is in the hands, which are slightly coarse. 
 From childhood he has been careless of ap- 
 pearance, but he has still the charm which 
 
200 THE LIFE OF SIR THOMAS MORE. 
 
 I remember when I first knew him. His 
 health is good though not robust, and he is 
 likely to be long-lived. His father, though 
 in extreme old age, is still vigorous. He is 
 careless in what he eats. I never saw a man 
 more so. Like his father, he is a water- 
 drinker. His food is beef, fresh or salted, 
 bread, milk, fruit, and especially eggs. His 
 voice is low and unmusical, though he loves 
 music ; but it is clear and penetrating. He 
 articulates sloAvly and distinctly, and never 
 hesitates. He dresses plainly ; no silks or 
 velvets or gold chains. He has no concern 
 for ceremony, expects none from others, and 
 shows little himself. He holds forms and 
 courtesies unworthy of a man of sense, and 
 for that reason has hitherto kept clear of the 
 court. All courts are full of intrigue. * * * 
 His talk is charming, full of fun, but never 
 scurrilous or malicious. He used to act 
 plays when young ; wit delights him, though 
 at his own expense." 
 
 The years which had passed over Sir 
 Thomas More from the day he entered the 
 service of the king until he left the chancel- 
 lor's office were fraught with anxiety and 
 
THE LIFE OF SIE THOMAS MORE. 201 
 
 apprehension. He was a keen observer and 
 an excellent reader of human nature. He 
 early learned the true character of the king. 
 On one occasion after Henry had visited him. 
 at his home in Chelsea, his son-in-law, Wil- 
 liam Roper, expressed his joy at seeing 
 the king so attached to his father-in-law. 
 " Ah ! " replied Sir Thomas More, " if my 
 • head would win him a castle in France, it 
 should not fail to go." But distrust in the 
 king was by no means his chief cause for ap- 
 prehension and gloomy forebodings. The 
 hope of the new learning, which promised so 
 much a few years before, when its apostles 
 had the ear of some of the most powerful 
 sovereigns and when its cause was openly 
 espoused by many of the greatest prelates and 
 scholars of the age, was suffering a partial 
 eclipse, while, on the other side, the Refor- 
 mation was assuming giant-like proportions. 
 The disciples of the new learning were 
 distinctly apostles of broad culture. The 
 leaders among the reformers too frequently 
 assailed culture as the handmaiden of evil ; 
 they had seen culture and art flourishing in 
 Italy and elsewhere, where artificiality, in- 
 
202 THE LIFE OF SIR THOMAS MORE. 
 
 sincerity and cynical scepticism prevailed, 
 and they imagined that art and scholarship, 
 beyond very narrow limits, were sensual and 
 enervating. Moreover, the summary meas- 
 ures being adopted by the church aroused 
 the spirit of hate and retaliation, as is ever 
 the case, and cahn reason gave way before 
 savage invectives and violent denunciations. 
 More, Erasmus, and Colet had dreamed of 
 a purified church in which love should 
 supplant form and dogma — a pure religion 
 based on reason and hospitable to science and 
 culture. But instead of this they now be- 
 held the church rent asunder. Schisms were 
 springing up on every hand. Instead of the 
 waters of reformative truth, flowing gently 
 over the earth, cleansing it of corruption and 
 giving life to that which was highest and 
 finest, as the apostles of the new learning an- 
 ticipated, they beheld in the Reformation a 
 torrent which was sweeping the good away 
 with the bad ; a savage, intemperate power, 
 which opposed culture and railed against that 
 which they held sacred in religion, a move- 
 ment which gained momentum and volume 
 with each succeeding month. 
 
THE LIFE OF SIR TBOMAS MORE. 203 
 
 The day for a middle course seemed past. 
 The cry, " Who is on the Lord's side ? " came 
 from the reactionary and intolerant Catholics 
 no less than from the Reformers. Zwingli 
 and Latimer threw in their lot with the ref- 
 ormation. Erasmus opposed the reforma- 
 tion, but held aloof from the reactionaries. 
 Sir Thomas More moved slowly but steadily 
 toward the camp of the ultra-conservatives. 
 To him came some of the most intense 
 spirits among the old-time Catholics of 
 England, and he caught the infection of 
 their mental atmosphere. Their fears sec- 
 onded his apprehensions, and further fanned 
 to fire the prejudice which at one time he 
 seemed to have outgrown. The ascetic spirit 
 which in youth almost made a monk of him 
 again asserted itself in a degree, and we find 
 him once more wearing the coarse hair shirt 
 next his skin, and he also returned to the 
 old habit of scourging his body with whips 
 and knotted cords, as he had punished him- 
 self in youth when he expected to become a 
 monk.* The magnificent faith in truth, 
 the wonderful spirit of toleration breathed 
 
 * See Roper's " Lite of More." 
 
204 THE LIFE OF SIR THOMAS MORE. 
 
 forth in " Utopia," which lifted him high 
 above the finest thinkers of his age, faded 
 away, and he became a persecutor of heretics. 
 I know it has been argued that he merely 
 permitted the execution of the law ; while on 
 the other hand Froude goes, I think, to the 
 opposite extreme in representing More in 
 darker colors than the facts warrant. This 
 historian claims that for some time before 
 the fall of Wolsey the persecution of her- 
 etics had become less and less rigorous, but 
 with the accession of More to the chancellor- 
 ship, the fires o£ Smithfield were again 
 lighted, From official documents of the 
 time it appears evident that persecutions con- 
 tinued during the brief period in which he 
 served as lord chancellor. And we know 
 enough of the courage and fidelity to convic- 
 tion of More to be sure that he would not 
 have remained a day in the high office to 
 which he had been appointed, had the king 
 insisted on the destruction of heretics when 
 More felt that such a course was criminal 
 and wrong. The man who had defeated the 
 demand of Henry VII. ; who had at a later 
 day, when speaker of the House, defied Car- 
 
THE LIFE OF SIB THOMAS MOBE. 205 
 
 dinal Wolsey ; the man who preferred the 
 block to taking the oath under the suprem- 
 acy act, was not the man to allow men to be 
 punished for heresy under his rule and re- 
 main silent if such punishment ran contrary 
 to his convictions of right. And yet he 
 doubtless had his misgivings. His prophetic 
 soul cast a sombre shadow over the future ; 
 for on one occasion when William Roper con- 
 gratulated Sir Thomas More on " the happy 
 estate of the realm that had so Catholic a 
 prince that no heretic durst show his face," 
 the philosopher repHed, " I pray God that 
 some of usj as high as we seem to sit upon 
 the mountains, treading heretics under our 
 feet like ants, hve not the day that we gladly 
 would wish to be at league with them to let 
 them have their churches quietly to . them- 
 selves, so that they would be content to let 
 us have ours quietly to ourselves." 
 
 It would have been far better for the rep- 
 utation of Sir Thomas More had he stead- 
 fastly refused to become lord chancellor of 
 the realm, for during this period he placed 
 an indelible blot upon a reputation which 
 otherwise was fairer than that of any other 
 
206 THE LIFE OF SIR THOMAS MORE. 
 
 great man of his age ; this is doubly sad 
 when we remember that he himself had 
 called the church, the state and the indidd- 
 ual conscience to judgment for intolerance 
 in " Utopia." I can conceive of few sadder 
 spectacles than that presented by a lofty 
 genius, like More, who, after ascending, the 
 mountains of the ideal and there receiving 
 the inspiration which belongs to the dawn of 
 true civilization, so far forgets the fine, high 
 truth he has enunciated as to turn his back 
 upon it and allow himself to become a per- 
 secutor of those who differ from him. 
 
 But while not ignoring this blot on the 
 otherwise fair fame of Sir Thomas More, let 
 us not forget that he lived in an age when 
 the Inquisition of Spain, having received the 
 authorization and benediction of the church, 
 was in active operation. Ferdinand and 
 Isabella, whose reign was so indelibly stained 
 with the persecution and murder of Jews, 
 Moors and heretics, had each been designated 
 " The Catholic," as a title of special favor. 
 On every hand it was argued that the heretics 
 would be burned for ever and ever in a lake 
 of fire and brimstone ; that if a heretic was 
 
THE LIFE OF SIB THOMAS MORE. 207 
 
 allowed to go at large he would soon poison 
 the souls of others. It was felt that the 
 man who, having a plague, went forth sow- 
 ing death, was less dangerous than the man 
 who sowed the seeds of heresy, which it was 
 aflBrmed were the seeds of eternal death. 
 More had always cherished a passionate love 
 for the Roman Church. It never seemed to 
 occur to him seriously to question the author- 
 ity of the pope. And had not the church 
 and that pope sanctioned persecutions ? Had 
 not John Huss long before been burned to 
 death ? and he was only one of many. 
 Moreover, the spirit of the age favored per- 
 secution ; it was a savage period ; human 
 life was very cheap. Thieves were hanged by 
 the score in England. The blood of the 
 Hundred Years' War between France and 
 England had left its stain on the brain of this 
 century. The dark shadows of departing 
 medisevalism were still visible, while already 
 in the south loomed the formidable spectre 
 of the coming half-century of religious per- 
 secution, which should prove such an age of 
 human slaughter and fiendish torture as 
 Europe had never known. Thus while we 
 
208 THE LIFE OF SIR THOMAS MORE. 
 
 deplore the fact that More permitted perse- 
 cution, we must not judge him by the stand- 
 ards of our time ; nor must we forget the fact 
 that More's brain was sensitive to the domi- 
 nant thought vibrations of the hour, as well 
 as the positive convictions of those in whom 
 he placed confidence. 
 
 It was during this brief and sunless period 
 when he was lord chancellor of England that 
 the turn of the tide of his worldly fortunes 
 set in. The king vainly endeavored to win 
 him to his way of viewing the proposed di- 
 vorce. Sir Thomas More saw in it the sever- 
 ing of the crown from the Church of Rome, 
 and held steadfastly to his convictions, which 
 were opposed to such a step. At length 
 rather than consent to the divorce he re- 
 signed his position at the court. He went 
 from office a very poor man, as he had stead- 
 fastly refused all proffered assistance and 
 had spurned the princely bribes which were 
 offered him. 
 
 In 1534 the Act of Supremacy was passed 
 and More was summoned to take the oath. 
 The king was very loth to destroy his one- 
 time friend ; he made many overtures, and 
 
THE LIFE OF SIR THOMA S MOBE. 209 
 
 assured More of his love for him- Later he 
 threatened ; both plans were alike unavail- 
 ing. Had More been willing to consent to 
 a modified oath, he would probably have 
 escaped the block, but the philosopher ever 
 placed loyalty to conviction of right above 
 life ; he was accordingly arrested, and at 
 length was beheaded. His tragic death 
 raised him to the peerage of martyrs. 
 
 The domestic life of Sir Thomas More 
 was singularly beautiful. - His home has 
 been termed a miniature Utopia. He pos- 
 sessed a gay and buoyant spirit and carried 
 sunshine instead of fear to his friends. His 
 political career, if we except his actions when 
 religious prejudice had clouded his reason and 
 dulled his naturally keen sense of justice, 
 evinced statesmanship of a high order. His 
 views on social problems were in many in- 
 stances hundreds of years in advance of his 
 day, while his genuine sympathy for the 
 poor and oppressed led him dauntlessly to 
 champion their cause, where a timeserver 
 would have remained silent. He was a 
 statesman unsullied by the demagogism of 
 the politician. He was an apostle of culture, 
 
 14 
 
210 THE LIFE OF SIB THOMAS MORE. 
 
 and in his writings embodied the best im- 
 pulses of the new learning in a larger way 
 than did any other scholar of his time. He 
 was a prophet of a true civilization, and had 
 his soul remained upon the mountain, above 
 the baleful psychic waves which beat around 
 his prejudices and played upon his fear, 
 More's life, as well as his writings, would 
 have proved an unalloyed inspiration to the 
 generations who have come after him. Yet 
 though, like Seneca, whom in very many re- 
 spects More resembled, he sometimes fell far 
 short of his high ideals, when judged in the 
 light of his age and environment he stands 
 forth one of the noblest figures of his time, 
 and in his " Utopia " he reveals the imag- 
 ination of a true genius, the wisdom and 
 justice of a sage, and the love of a civilized 
 man. 
 
X.— THE UTOPIA OF SIR THOMAS MORE. 
 Paet I. 
 
 The prophetic insight which enabled Sir Thomas More to discern 
 the trend of social progress and true civilization — Professor 
 Brunmiond's elucidation of the same idea along scientific lines 
 — Egoism and Altruism the keynote of the struggle of the 
 ages — The age in which More wrote and the purpose he had 
 in view necessarily resulted in limitations in " Utopia " which 
 we readily realize from our modern vantage ground — The 
 spirit of the work was altruistic and in alignment with true civi- 
 lization and enduring progress — An Utopian commonwealth 
 in the New World— Its excellence and its flaws— A pen picture 
 of ancient Peruvian government — Great reforms fore- 
 shadowed by the prophet soul of Sir Thomas More— Universal 
 education — Industrial training — Treatment of the sick — Six 
 hours' labor a day — The aversion of the Utopians to war— 
 Their conduct in case of war — The noble words of Charles 
 Sumner against war. 
 
 Long before Professor Drummond had 
 elucidated the important evolutionary truth 
 that the ascent of man has been marked by the 
 triumph of altruistic over egoistic sentimentj-V 
 Sir Thomas More's keen insight and intellect- 
 ual penetration enabled him to see that the 
 highway upon which humanity must pass in 
 order to secure progress, felicity and true 
 
 civilization, must be other than the savage 
 211 
 
212 THE UTOPIA OF SIB THOMAS MORE. 
 
 struggle for self alone which controlled man 
 ■fci the past when the animal overmastered 
 the spiritual in governmental as well as in- 
 dividual life. The central idea of " Utopia " is 
 the triumph of altruism over egoism. That 
 Sir Thomas More had to conform in a way to 
 the dominant ideas of his age in order to be 
 taken with any degree of seriousness, as for 
 example when he makes the accomplishment 
 of universal prosperity and happiness flow 
 from the absolutism of King Utopus, is not 
 surprising, as we shall presently see. 
 
 Though the philosopher lived in an essen- 
 tially savage age, in which the brutal theory 
 that might makes right was accepted almost 
 as a truism, and which was permeated by 
 selfishness, intolerance and heartless dis- 
 regard for the weak and unfortunate, he 
 ajaught luminous glimpses of felicity to be 
 a'ttained through the abolition of class privi- 
 leges and the establishment of just conditions. 
 In conceiving that human happiness and 
 national prosperity could best be promoted 
 by the application of the golden rule. Sir 
 Thomas More was as wise as he was sympa- 
 thetic ; as scientific as he was humane, since 
 
THE UTOPIA OF SIR THOMAS MORE. 213 
 
 he was in perfect accord with the best thought 
 and latest discoveries and deductions of en- 
 lightened science. 
 
 In the warfare of uncounted ages which 
 has marked the rise of life, the struggle for 
 existence has played a cardinal role. In the 
 earlier stages of the ascent this savage law 
 predominated, and perhaps it is not singular 
 that Charles Darwin and other great working 
 naturalists, whose attention was so very largely 
 centred upon these lower forms of life, should 
 have come to the conclusion that the key 
 to the solution of the stupendous problem 
 popularly known as " the descent of man," 
 lay in the survival of the fittest in the re- 
 morseless struggle for existence ; nor is it 
 surprising that many philosophers who read 
 in embryology, in geology, in natural history, 
 and indeed on almost every page of nature's 
 marvellous messages to men, the wonderful 
 story of the ascent of life, should have 
 followed the lead of the great apostles of 
 evolution in their conclusions. ' 
 
 Professor Drummond,* however, points 
 out another factor which hitherto has been 
 
 * " Ascent of Man," By Professor Henry Drummond, F, R, S, 
 
214 THE UTOPIA OF SIE THOMAS MORE. 
 
 barely moi*e than hinted at by those compe- 
 tent scholars who have unhesitatingly accepted 
 the evolutionary hypothesis — and that is, the 
 struggle for the life of others. He shows 
 us that if the struggle for life in its earlier 
 and more narrow sensfe be termed nutrition, 
 this other great factor may, under the same 
 limited construction, be termed reproduction. 
 In a broader significance, and as terms es- 
 pecially applicable when we reach a plane 
 where the two impelling forces are more 
 evenly inatched, they may be termed egoism 
 and altruism. 
 
 In the lower forms of existence the struggle 
 for life is almost the only law discernible in 
 operation ; the other influence may be likened 
 to a silken thread, almost imperceptible. 
 At a later stage it becomes quite apparent 
 in love and care for the young, and as we fol- 
 low the line of ascent we see animals protect- 
 ing their young and defending those of their 
 number who are assailed by outside enemies. 
 
 When the plane of man is reached these 
 influences are more evenly matched ; the 
 struggle for others has taken mighty strides 
 onward, and in the civilization of our time 
 
THE UTOPIA OF SIE THOMAS MORE. 215 
 
 we find egoism and altruism facing each 
 other like two giant forces — the former the 
 powerful victor for uncounted ages in the 
 slow ascent of life, with a spirit which, while 
 yielding to the form of savagery which the 
 conventionality of the age permits, is always 
 dominated by self-love. It is remorseless, 
 and though its hands may be gloved the claws 
 are always present. Though no iron chains 
 may be visible as its victims wait upon it, 
 the slavery is none the less real. Though 
 the superficial observer may not see the 
 transfusion of blood which is daily taking 
 place, he can see how the master fattens and 
 the victim pales with each succeeding year. 
 
 On the other hand, the spirit of altruism^, 
 marks the progress of enduring civilization. 
 Its presence carries gladness and hope and 
 makes life worth living. Its ideal is su- 
 premely noble. It raises its servants to 
 heights of felicity unknown to natures blinded 
 by egoism. It points as unswervingly to the 
 zenith of civilization, where peace, happiness 
 and wisdom abide, as does the index finger 
 of egoism point to the savage past. 
 
 In social life to-day, throughout Christen- 
 
216 THE UTOPIA OF SIR THOMAS MORE. 
 
 dom, these opposing forces are waging a 
 life-and-death struggle. The problem of 
 national life, and indeed that of enduring 
 civilization, as well as the happiness and wel- 
 fare of the individual, depend upon the issue. 
 This great scientific truth was grasped by 
 Sir Thomas More, through his rare prophetic 
 or intuitional power, in a selfish, brutal and 
 unscientific age. The central idea empha- 
 sized in " Utopia " contains the redemptive 
 potentiality for human society, however 
 crude or wide of the mark it may be in 
 some of the details of government. When 
 we bear in mind the conditions of the 
 civihzation of Europe in the fifteenth and 
 sixteenth centuries, and also remember the 
 limitations under which Sir Thomas More nec- 
 essarily labored in order to make this work 
 appeal to his young sovereign, as well as 
 appear feasible even to the most advanced 
 spirits of his time, we shall appreciate how 
 far in advance of his age was this great 
 prophet of a higher civilization, and shall 
 also understand why at times he halted 
 and in a degree conformed to the arbitrary 
 methods and monarchical ideas and the intel- 
 
THE UTOPIA OF SIB THOMAS MORE. 217 
 
 lectual limitations as well as the tyranny of 
 conventionalism which marked his day. Yet, 
 notwithstanding these limitations, " Utopia " 
 was in spirit so true to the best impulses of/ 
 man, so in general alignment with the then 
 undreamed-of evolutionary processes of life 
 and society, that not only has it proved an 
 inspiration to social reformers and humanita- 
 rians from his century to the present time, 
 but to-day there are thousands where here- 
 tofore there were tens who advocate the 
 central ideas he advanced as the true solu- 
 tion of the problem of human society, and, 
 as I have pointed out, they are borne out by 
 the theory of evolution which was at first 
 supposed to be directly opposed to the al- 
 truistic conception. 
 
 On the threshold of our examination it 
 will also be interesting to note the fact that 
 for generations and perhaps centuries before 
 Sir Thomas More wrote " Utopia " there had 
 existed in the western world a government 
 which had abolished poverty. This unique 
 civilization flourished in what is to-day 
 known as Peru, and although less complex, 
 and in many respects less advanced than the 
 
218 TEE UTOPIA OF SIB THOMAS MORE. 
 
 most enlightened European nations of the 
 age of More, it was incomparably in advance 
 of the nations which surrounded the Land of 
 the Incas, as Peru was commonly termed. 
 The concern which this western civihzation 
 exhibited for the welfare of her children and 
 the many noble characteristics of its govern- 
 ment gave it a prestige, a power and a glory, 
 despite its crudities and objectionable feat- 
 ures, which were not approached by any 
 sister nation, and in various respects it sur- 
 passed the Christian nations of Europe at 
 that age. It is true that this civilization 
 went down before the merciless sword of the 
 Spaniard, precisely as did Christian Rome go 
 down before the barbarians of the North, or 
 as did Poland succumb to the savage fury 
 of Russia. But the facts which have come 
 to us from Spanish historians are a revela- 
 tion in that they show in a marked manner 
 what was actually accompUshed by a simple 
 people in an age when the dream of en- 
 lightened cooperation was not yet born, and 
 when the idea of the divine right of rulers 
 still held the human mind in thrall. 
 
 This strange and ancient civilization, in 
 
THE UTOPIA OF SIS THOMAS MORE. 219 
 
 some respects so wise and considerate, was 
 as one would naturally expect in a rude 
 age, marred by many blemishes. Thus, for 
 example, in matters of religion the ancient 
 Peruvians, like the Egyptians of old, believed 
 their first rulers were children of the sun. 
 They were very dogmatic in their theologi- 
 cal views and, like all dogmatic religionists, 
 showed scant toleration to those who, how- 
 ever sincerely, differed with them. Thus, 
 from the fragmentary records which have 
 come to us, we are led to infer that the soul- 
 withering spirit of persecution, which is so 
 thoroughly antagonistic to a spiritual growth 
 or intellectual advancement, was present in 
 this ancient civilization, although in justice 
 to the Incas it is fair to say that even the rec- 
 ords of their conquerors do not indicate that 
 they were so intolerant as the Christian Span- 
 iards of the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries. 
 A most interesting glimpse of this pecul- 
 iar civilization, as gathered from the most 
 trustworthy sources, is given in the follow- 
 ing words by Clements Markham in his 
 admirable " History of Peru : " * 
 
 * " History of Peru." By Clements R. Markham, F. R. S., F. A. S. 
 
220 THE UTOPIA OF SIB THOMAS MORE. 
 
 " In many respects Peru under the Incas 
 resembled the Utopia o£ Sir Thomas More. 
 * * * Punishments for crimes were severe 
 and inexorably inflicted. Not a spot of 
 cultivable land was neglected. Towns and 
 villages were built on rocky hills, cemeteries 
 were in deserts or in the sides of barren 
 chffs, in order that no land might be wasted. 
 Dry wastes were irrigated, and terraces were 
 constructed, sometimes a hundred deep, up 
 the sides of mountains. The results were 
 commensurate with the thought and skill 
 expended. * * * Provision was made to 
 supply aU classes of the people with every- 
 thing they required that was not produced by 
 themselves, through a system of colonies 
 ovmitimaes. Inhabitants of a populous dis- 
 trict were removed to a less crowded one, 
 the comfort of all classes was promoted by 
 exchange of products, waste places were 
 made fertile, and political objects were also 
 secured. * * * Under the Inca system all 
 who could work were obliged to work, all 
 lived in comfort, and there was ample pro- 
 vision for the aged, for young and children, 
 and for the sick. Tillers of the ground and 
 
THE UTOPIA OF SIB THOMAS MORE. 221 
 
 shepherds received the share of produce 
 called Huaccha, and the surplus went to the 
 mitimaes in exchange for other products. 
 All other workers were maintained from the 
 share called Inca, including the sovereign and 
 his officers, and the army. * * * So perfect 
 was the Inca organization that it continued 
 to work efficiently, and almost mechanically, 
 for some time after the guiding heads had 
 been struck down. The Spanish conquerors 
 found that when they marched through the 
 districts, sacking houses and destroying 
 growing crops, the local officers kept a care- 
 ful record of the injury done. The accounts 
 were then examined and checked, and if one 
 district had lost more than another, those 
 that had suffered less made up part of the 
 difference, so that the burden might be 
 shared equally by all. Under such a system 
 there could be no want, for thought was 
 taken for the nourishment and comfort of 
 every creature. There was hard work, while 
 provision was made, not only for rest, but 
 also for recreation. The dreams of socialists 
 were made a reality in the system which grew 
 up and flourished under the rule of the Incas." 
 
222 THE UTOPIA OF SIR THOMAS MOBE. 
 
 Henry Austin, in his thoughtful work, 
 entitled " A Story of Government," observes 
 that : " The Spanish historians record with 
 grave amazement that they had discovered 
 a miracidous land in which there was no 
 such thing as a j^oor or discontented man, 
 in which everybody worked from the Em- 
 peror down, a reasonable length of time, at 
 tasks fitted to their strength and their 
 ability. In which the problem of mere 
 living, as it confronts us moderns, in our so- 
 called civilized cities, had been satisfactorily 
 settled, in which the average of human hap- 
 piness was large and increasing." 
 
 The facts disclosed by the civilization of 
 ancient Peru have a very special interest and 
 value in view of the contemptuous sneers of 
 superficial thinkers who, with grave assump- 
 tions of superior wisdom, frequently assert 
 that such a condition as Sir Thomas More 
 depicted could never exist in reality. It did 
 exist in the land of the Incasunder conditions 
 which were strikingly similar to the popu- 
 lar ideals in regard to rulership, the rights 
 of classes and the claims of theology, which 
 marked the England of Sir Thomas More, 
 
THE UTOPIA OF SIR THOMAS MORE. 223 
 
 as well as other European nations of that 
 age ; and from what we can gather from 
 historians who cannot be accused of being 
 partial to the western civihzation which 
 Spanish soldiers so ruthlessly and brutally 
 destroyed, a condition of peace, 2>Tosperity 
 and fraternity prevailed in ancient Peru 
 unknown to any nation of Europe contem- 
 poraneous with the supremacy of the govern- 
 ment of the Incas. 
 
 With the recent scientific conceptions as 
 to the descent of man and with the sug- 
 gestive history of the ancient Peruvians in 
 mind, we will now consider the social vision 
 of England's great philosopher and states- 
 man. 
 
 A great many of the reforms which Sir 
 Thomas More described as being practised 
 by the Utopians, and which were regarded 
 as ideal, visionary and absurd in his time, 
 and for many generations after his death, 
 are now coming into successful operation. 
 Take, for example, universal or compulsory 
 education such as prevails at present in so 
 many states of our Republic ; this was fore- 
 shadowed by More, as we are told that in 
 
224 TBE UTOPIA OF SIB THOMAS MORE. 
 
 Utopia every " child receives a good educa- 
 tion, and thus ignorance — the great cause of 
 lawlessness and wretchedness — is banished." 
 Again, the general demand for industrial ed- 
 ucation, which is gaining such favor among 
 thoughtful and enlightened men and women, 
 prevailed in this island country. On this 
 point we are told that " Husbandry is a 
 science common to them all in general, both 
 men and women, wherein they be all expert 
 and cunning, being instructed from their 
 youth, partly in their schools and partly in 
 the country nigh unto the city, brought up, 
 as it were, in playing, not only beholding 
 the use of it, but also practising it." Besides 
 husbandry every one learned some trade or 
 science as his own special craft, such as 
 " cloth-working in wool, flax, or masonry or 
 the smith's craft or the carpenter's trade." 
 We are further told that " the child is per- 
 mitted to select the trade or science he de- 
 sires to master," and " if he wishes to per- 
 fect himself in two crafts, he is permitted to do 
 so." In Sir Thomas More's day the college 
 of physicians was founded in London, but 
 the treatment of the sick was crude and often 
 
THE UTOPIA OF SIR THOMAS MORE. 225 
 
 barbarous, and our modern methods would 
 have been deemed impracticable and visionary 
 in the extreme. Yet the low ideals and 
 limited conceptions of his age did not pre- 
 vent the author of •' Utopia " from describing 
 an enlightened way of treating the sick, 
 which our tortoise-like civilization is gradu- 
 ally acting upon. Thus, we are told that : 
 "First, and chiefly, respect is had to the 
 sick that be carried in the hospitals, for in 
 the circuit of the city, a little without the 
 walls, they have four hospitals, so large and 
 ample that they seem four little towns, made 
 thus commodious that the sick may have a 
 generous allowance of room amid charming 
 surroundings. These hospitals be so well 
 appointed and with all things necessary to 
 health so furnished, and moreover they have 
 so diligent attention through continued pres- 
 ence of skillful physicians, that though no 
 man be sent hither against his will, yet, not- 
 withstanding, there is no sick person in all 
 the city that had not rather lie there than at 
 home in his own house." 
 
 The persistent demand on the part of 
 organized labor for a ten or eight hours' 
 IS 
 
226 THE UTOPIA OF SIR THOMAS MORE. 
 
 working day was anticipated by Sir Thomas 
 More, for in Utopia men worked but " six 
 hours a day,"and were therefore " not wearied 
 from early in the morning to late in the even- 
 ing with continual work like laboring and 
 toiHng beasts." After the six hours which 
 were given daily to toil each person was free 
 to enjoy and improve himself. Public lect- 
 ures of various kinds, musical entertainments 
 and halls where games were played were 
 provided for those who desired to take ad- 
 vantage of these pursuits for self -improvement 
 or wholesome recreation. For it was held 
 by the Utopians that the time which could 
 be spared from the necessary occupations 
 and affairs of the Commonwealth, the citi- 
 zens should enjoy in freedom, " for herein 
 they suppose the felicity of life to consist." 
 The six hours a day, we are assured, are 
 ample for the performance of all necessary 
 work. Indeed, we are told that " That small 
 time is not only enough, but too m\;ch, for 
 the store and abundance of all things that 
 be requisite either for the necessities or 
 commodities of life " ; and by way of explana- 
 tion the author continues, "The which 
 
THE UTOPIA OF SIR THOMAS MORE. 227 
 
 thing you also shall perceive if you consider 
 how great a part of the people in other coun- 
 tries live idle." In Utopia all able-bodied 
 men and women perform a modicum of labor 
 and all enjoy ample time for self-culture, for 
 recreation and for following any lines of 
 thought they may fancy. Agriculture, hus- 
 bandry and allied pursuits are esteemed very 
 highly throughout the island. Poultry rais- 
 ing is carried on very extensively by means 
 of incubators, for we are told that "they 
 bring up a multitude of poultry by a mar- 
 vellous process, for the hens do not sit upon 
 the eggs, but by keeping them in a certain 
 equal heat they bring life into them." 
 
 In the sixteenth century the soldiers were 
 considered among the most honorable of 
 men ; war was esteemed more than legiti- 
 mate ; it was the pastime of kings, princes, 
 popes and mighty lords, and received the sanc- 
 tion of conventionalism ; on the other hand, 
 husbandry and other pursuits which added 
 to the wealth, happiness and comfort of so- 
 ciety were looked down upon with supreme 
 contempt. Sir Thomas More appreciated 
 most keenly the fact that war is one of the most 
 
228 THE UTOPIA OF SIR THOMAS MORE. 
 
 conspicuous survivals of the savage in society, 
 and that the contempt for productive and 
 ennobHng trades and callings owes its source 
 to false ideals and base conceptions of the 
 true grandeur of nations ; hence, he tells us 
 that the Utopians " detest and abhor war " 
 as " a thing very beastly," and " they count 
 nothing so much against glory as glory 
 gotten in war " ; and though both men and 
 women are drilled to a limited extent in the 
 manual of arms that they may defend their 
 fair domain in case of invasion, they discour- 
 age war, and when possible avoid the use- 
 less and criminal shedding of human blood. 
 And then doubtless foreseeing the objections 
 which would be advanced to the peace policy 
 of the Utopians by superficial persons, who 
 would at once exclaim that such a policy 
 would expose a government to wrongs com- 
 mitted against it without the nation being 
 able to redress its wrongs, our author points 
 out that when wrongs are perpetrated even 
 against any friendly nation, the Utopians 
 adopt a more excellent and enUghtened 
 method of punishment, provided the lives of 
 the Utopians and their allies have not been 
 
THE V TOPI A OF SIR THOMAS MORE. 229 
 
 sacrificed. In cases where other nations 
 " by cunning or guile defraud " the Utopians, 
 or "when violence is done to their bodies," 
 they wreak their anger by abstaining from 
 trading or carrying on any friendly relations 
 with the ofEending nation, " until satisfaction 
 or restitution is made." If the Hves of any 
 Utopians have been sacrificed, the nation 
 is quick to resent it, for the citizenship 
 of this country is regarded as a sacred trust, 
 to be protected at all hazards, even by war if 
 that be necessary ; but in such cases, we are 
 told, every effort possible is made to prevent 
 the wholesale sl^raghter of life, even the lives 
 of their foes, for " they be not only sorry but 
 also ashamed to achieve a victory with blood- 
 shed, counting it great folly to buy precious 
 wares too dear ; but they rejoice if they van- 
 qmsh their enemies by craft, and for that 
 act they make a general triumph, and con- 
 ceiving the matter to be manfully handled 
 they set up a pillar of stone in the place 
 where they vanquished their enemies, in token 
 of victory, for they glory and boast that they 
 have played the man indeed, because they 
 have overcome as no other living creature 
 
230 THE UTOPIA OF SIR THOMAS MORE. 
 
 but man could overcome, that is to say, by 
 the might of wit. For with bodily strength 
 bears, lions, boars, wolves, dogs and other 
 wild beasts do fight, and the most part of 
 them do surpass man in strength and fierce 
 courage." We further learn that it is a 
 settled policy with the Utopians to kill as few 
 men as possible ; hence, in the event of war 
 and in order to visit their vengeance upon 
 those who cause the war rather than upon 
 the helpless persons who are so recklessly 
 hurried to death by their rulers, they ofEer 
 enormous rewards to any man who will slay 
 the prince or the king of the people who war 
 against them, and also rich rewards for the 
 lives of all the kings or princes or councillors 
 who are directly responsible for the appeal 
 to brute force. As may be supposed, this 
 procedure works most effectively in deter- 
 ring warlike rulers from picking a quarrel 
 with the Utopians. 
 
 The Utopians, as we have seen, " detest war 
 and count nothing so much against glory as 
 glory gotten in war." These words written 
 for the eyes of a young king who had already 
 squandered vast sums in reckless and dis- 
 
THE UTOPIA OF SIR THOMAS MOIiE. 231 
 
 graceful warfare, and penned at a time when 
 some of the nations of Christendom were 
 perpetually engaged in war, reveal the pro- 
 phet soul who beheld' a brighter and a more; 
 humane age in the future, when the true*^ 
 grandeur of nations would be held to consist 
 in something nobler than wholesale murder. 
 And these words remind us of the following 
 noble utterance of our illustrious statesman, 
 Charles Sumner: 
 
 " War crushes with bloody heel all benefi- 
 cence, all happiness, all justice, all that is 
 Godlike in man — suspending every com- 
 mandment of the decalogue, setting at 
 naught every principle of the gospel, and 
 silencing all law, human as well as divine, 
 except only that impious code of its own, the 
 laws of war. * * * 
 
 " And now, if it be asked why, in consid- 
 ering the true grandeur of nations, I dwell 
 thus singly and exclusively on war, it is be- 
 cause war is utterly and irreconcilably incon- 
 sistent with true greatness. Thus far, man 
 has worshipped in military glory a phantom 
 idol compared with which the colossal images 
 of ancient Babylon or modern Hindustan 
 
232 THE UTOPIA OF SIR THOMAS MORE. 
 
 are but toys, and we, in this favored land of 
 freedom, in this blessed day of light, are 
 among the idolaters. It is not enough to be 
 free. There must be peace which cannot 
 fail, and other nations must share the great 
 possession. For this good must wo labor, 
 bearing ever in mind two special objects, 
 complements of each other : first, the arbi- 
 trament 'of war must end; and, secondly, 
 disarmament must begin. 
 
 " Casting our eyes over the history of na- 
 tions, with horror we discern the succession 
 of murderous slaughters by which their prog- 
 ress is marked. Even as the hunter follows 
 the wild beast to his lair by the drops of 
 blood on the ground, so we follow man, faint, 
 weary, staggering with wounds, through the 
 black forest of the past, which he has red- 
 dened with his gore. Oh, let it not be in 
 the future ages as in those we now contem- 
 plate ! Let the grandeur of man be dis- 
 cerned not in bloody victory or ravenous 
 conquest, but in the blessings he has secured, 
 in the good he has accomplished, in the tri- 
 umphs of justice and beneficence, in the 
 establishment of perpetual peace! To this 
 
THE UTOPIA OF SIR THOMAS MORE. 233 
 
 great work let me summon you. That fu- 
 ture, which filled the lofty vision of sages 
 and bards in Greece and Rome, which was 
 foretold by prophets and heralded by evange- 
 lists, when man, in Happy Isles, or in a new 
 Paradise, shall confess the loveliness of peace, 
 may you secure, if not for yourselves, at 
 least for your children ! Believe that you 
 can do it and you can do it. The true Golden 
 Age is before, not behind. If man has once 
 been driven from paradise, while an angel 
 with flaming sword forbade his return, there 
 is another paradise even on earth, which 
 he may make for himself, by the cultivation 
 of knowledge, religion and the kindly virtues 
 of life, — where the confusion of tongues 
 shall be dissolved in the union of hearts, and 
 joyous Nature, borrowjing prolific charms 
 from prevailing Harmony, shall spread her 
 lap with unimagined bounty, and there shall 
 be perpetual jocund spring, and sweet strains 
 borne on the ' odoriferous wing of gentle 
 gales,' through valleys of delight more pleas- 
 ant than the Vale of Tempe, richer than the 
 Garden of the Hesperides, with no dragoii 
 to guard its golden fruit." 
 
XI.~THE UTOPIA OF SIR THOMAS MORE. 
 
 Pakt II. 
 
 Religious toleration in Utopia— Sir Thomas More's luminous 
 characterization of the Father of Life and Love in his por- 
 trayal of the religious ideal of God held by the wisest of the 
 Utopians— King Utopus's broad and enlightened view of 
 religion ; a luminous conception which contrasted boldly 
 with the popular Christian spirit of the age of More— The sad 
 failure of the great philosopher when the hour of testing came 
 to realize his lofty ideal when the divine within him was unin- 
 fluenced and undismayed by baser influences — The limitations 
 of More even when on the mountain top, as revealed in a flash 
 of intolerance out.of keeping with the religious theory of the 
 Utopians— The belief of the Utopians that the dead were 
 ever with them— The religion of the Utopians a religion of 
 deeds rather than creeds — Belief in immortality — Humane 
 treatment of criminals — Treatment of women — Liberal 
 divorce views of Sir Thomas More — Social and economic con- 
 ditions in Utopia — The strength and weakness in More's 
 social views ' as illustrated in his work— Powerful assault 
 on gold madness and its disastrous effect on individual happi- 
 ness and social progress^t-Some striking comparisons which 
 are homely and suggestive— Sir Thomas More's " Utopia" 
 a prophet voice calling man to reason and j ustice and to the 
 consideration of higher ideals — Maurice Adams' characteri- 
 zation of the work and his prophecy of the coming day. 
 
 In viewing the religious toleration of Sir 
 Thomas More at the time he wrote " Utopia " 
 we are impressed with the noble and grandly 
 humane spirit evinced by this prophet of a 
 
 lofty civilization^ when on the summit — when 
 
 234 
 
THE UTOPIA OF SIR THOMAS MORE. 235 
 
 the God within swayed his soul and cast out 
 fear. But turning from these pages, glow- 
 ing with a tolerance so far in advance of his 
 time, to the story of the life of Sir Thomas 
 More in after years, while lord chancellor 
 of the realm, and there noting his intoler- 
 ance, we are painfully reminded of the frailty 
 of human nature and the liability of sensitive 
 minds to be swayed by human thought 
 when strong and deep-rooted prejudices are 
 aroused. The noblest natures are not im- 
 pregnable if they for a moment lose sight 
 of that basic principle of civilization which 
 we call the Golden Hide. 
 
 In Utopia we are informed that " There 
 be divers kinds of religion in sundry parts 
 of the island and divers parts of every city. 
 Some worship for God, the sun ; some, the 
 moon ; some, some other of the planets. 
 There be those that give worship to a man 
 that was once of excellent virtue or of famous 
 glory. But the most and the wisest part 
 believe that there is a certain Godly Power 
 unknown, everlasting, incomprehensible, 
 inexplicable, far above the capacity and 
 reach of man's wit, dispersed throughout 
 
236 THE UTOPIA OF SIE THOMAS MORE. 
 
 all the world, not in bigness but in virtue 
 and power. Him they call Father of all. 
 To Him alone they attribute the beginnings, 
 the increasings, the proceedings, the changes 
 and the ends of all things." 
 
 The enlightened views of the founder of 
 this Commonwealth, and his aversion to that 
 violence and the spirit of hatred always 
 liable to arise among men where dogmatic 
 theology prevails, are thus set forth : " For 
 King Utopus, even at the first beginning, 
 hearing that the inhabitants of the land were, 
 before his coming thither, at continual dis- 
 sension and strife among themselves because 
 "jo^ their religion, made a decree that it 
 should be lawful for every man to favor and 
 follow what religion he would, and that he 
 might do the best he could to bring others 
 to his opinion, so that he did it peaceably, 
 gently, quietly and soberly, without haste and 
 contention, rebuking and inveighing against 
 others. If he could not by fair and gentle 
 speech induce them into his opinion, yet he 
 should use no kind of violence and refrain 
 from unpleasant and seditious words." 
 
 The ideas of King Utopus on religion 
 
THE UTOPIA OF SIR THOMAS MORE. 237 
 
 were far broader than the popular opinions 
 or views current throughout Christian 
 Europe at the time when More wrote, as 
 will be seen from the following : " Whereof 
 he durst define and determine nothing un- 
 advisedly, as doubting whether God, desiring 
 manifold and divers sorts of honor, would 
 inspire sundry men with sundry kinds of 
 religion, and this surely he thought a po^nt 
 of arrogant presumption to compel all others 
 by violence and threatening to agree to the 
 same as thou believest to be true. Further- 
 more, though there be one religion which 
 alone is true and others vain and supersti- 
 tious, yet did he well foresee that the truth 
 of its own power would, at the last, issue 
 out and come to the light. But if conten- 
 tions and debates be continually indulged in, 
 as the worst men be most obstinate and 
 stubborn, he perceived that then the best and 
 holiest religion would be trodden under foot 
 and destroyed by most vain superstitions. 
 Therefore all this matter he left undiscussed 
 and gave to every man free liberty to choose 
 and believe what he would." 
 
 It is sad indeed that the illustrious 
 
238 THE UTOPIA OF SIB THOMAS MORE. 
 
 author did not cling to these wise precepts 
 when he rose to the first place below the 
 throne of England. Once, indeed, we see the 
 spirit of intolerance flash forth in Sir Thomas 
 More's description of the religious views 
 prevalent throughout Utopia ; once we see 
 his lack of faith in the power of truth ; once 
 his loyalty to freedom in thought, justice 
 and wisdom is found limping on a crutch, as 
 will be found by perusal of the following 
 passage, relating to atheists : " He [King 
 Utopus] earnestly charged them that no man 
 Should conceive so vile and base an opinion 
 of the dignity of man's nature as to think 
 that the souls do die and perish with the 
 body, or that the world is not governed by 
 Divine Providence. Him that be of contrary 
 opinion they count not in the number of 
 men, as one that has abased the high nature 
 of the soul to the vileness of brute 
 bodies. * * * Wherefore he that is thus 
 minded is deprived of all honors, excluded 
 from all offices, and rejected from all common 
 administrations in the public weal, and thus 
 he is of all sorts despised as of an unprofit- 
 able and of a base and vile nature. Howheit 
 
THE UTOPIA OF SIR TnOilAS MORE. 239 
 
 they 2^ut him to no punishment because they 
 be jiersuaded that it is in no man's power 
 to believe what he lists, nor do they con- 
 strain him with threatenings to dissemble 
 his mind and show countenance contrary 
 to his beliefs. For deceit andfalsehood and 
 all manner of lies as next unto fraud they 
 do detest and abhor. But they suffer him 
 not to dispute in his opinions, and that only 
 among the common people. For many men 
 of gravity and the priests they encourage to 
 exhort him, to dispute and argue, hoping 
 that at the last his madness will give place 
 to reason." The spirit evinced in this pas- 1 
 sage, though displaying a sad lack of faith ^ 
 in the power of truth, and the wholesomeness 
 of free thought, was far above the savage, 
 intolerant and unreasoning spirit which 
 prevailed throughout Europe during the 
 sixteenth century; and in the expression, 
 " They be persuaded that it is in no man's 
 power to believe what he lists," we see that 
 this ardent Catholic in this age of religious f a^ 
 naticism caught a glimpse of a great truth, 
 the wilful refusal to recognize which has led 
 to untold persecution and suffering. Many of 
 
240 THE UTOPIA OF SIR THOMAS MORE. 
 
 the noblest prophets and disciples of science 
 and truth have been slain because they saw 
 truths larger than the conventionalists of 
 their age regarded as orthodox, and because 
 they were too noble and high-minded to he 
 and go to the grave mantled in hypocrisy. 
 
 Very apt is the way Sir Thomas More sat- 
 -irizes the tendency of a dogmatic religion to 
 make its adherents intolerant by narrowing 
 the intellectual vision of those who fall 
 under its paralyzing influence. The Chris- 
 tian visitor to Utopia, finding the wide lati- 
 tude given to religious views, made haste to 
 promulgate the conventional Christian the- 
 ology of the sixteenth century. As soon as 
 one of the Utopians was proselyted, he be- 
 came infected with that intolerance which 
 has so frequently ostracized where it has 
 been unable to destroy the advance guard of 
 civilization and progress in the ages. But I 
 will let the author of "Utopia " tell the story : 
 " He, as soon as he was baptized, began 
 against our wills with more earnest affection 
 than wisdom to reason of Christ's religion, 
 and began to wax so hot in this matter 
 that he did prefer our religion before all 
 
THE UTOPIA OF SIR THOMAS MORE. 241 
 
 others, calling them profane and the followers 
 of them wicked and devilish and the chil- 
 dren of everlasting damnation." 
 
 The Utopians, we are told, believed " that 
 the dead be present among them, though to 
 the dull and feeble eyesight of man they be 
 invisible." They reason that the spirits of 
 the loved ones not only enjoy the liberty of 
 coming back and becoming in a way guardian ■ 
 angels, but that the love of those who leave 
 us is intensified as their vision is broadened. 
 " They believe, therefore, that the dead be 
 presently conversant among the quick as 
 beholders and witnesses of all their words 
 and deeds. Therefore, they go more coura- 
 geously to their business, as having a trust in 
 such guardians." This, it will be seen, is 
 curiously enough the central claim of modern 
 spiritualism. And it is the hope of arriving 
 at a scientific solution of this momentous 
 problem that has inspired during recent years 
 the tireless labors of earnest thinkers and 
 scientific bodies who have been engaged 
 in the critical investigation of psychical 
 phenomena. The prophet when upon the 
 
 mountain of exaltation not unfrequently 
 
 i6 
 
242 THE UTOPIA OF SIR THOMAS MORE. 
 
 catches luminous glimpses of great tr^iths, 
 which are not scientifically established by 
 the slower methods of reasoning resulting 
 from the vast accumulation of authoritative 
 data, until centuries later. And may not the 
 author of " Utopia," in one of these moments, 
 have caught a glimpse of a truth which 
 science will some day establish to the satis- 
 faction of those who desire the truth, but 
 who are influenced by hard facts resting on 
 unchallenged data ? 
 
 The religion described as prevailing among 
 the Utopians reflects many ideas accepted 
 in More's day ; but we here also find much that 
 was far in advance of his age, being based 
 on common sense rather than being the 
 ofFsjiring of dogmatism. Thus we are told 
 that " They believe that felicity after 
 death is obtained by busy labors and good 
 deeds in life." It is a point with them 
 to seek to " mitigate and assuage the grief 
 of others " and to " take from them sorrow 
 and the heaviness of life." They define 
 virtue " To be life ordered according to 
 nature, and that he doth follow the course 
 of nature which in desiring and refusing 
 
THE UTOPIA OF SIB THOMAS MORE. 243 
 
 things is ruled by his reason." They hold 
 " That the soul is immortal and ordained by 
 God to felicity ; that our virtuous and good 
 deeds be rewarded and our evil deeds be 
 punished." In other words, the Utopians 
 believe that as a man sows so shall he 
 reap, and that no suffering of the innocent 
 can wipe away the consequences of sins 
 which sear, crush and deform the soul ; but, 
 as we have seen, they believe in the ulti- 
 mate felicity of the spirit, — a belief which 
 alone can make creation other than a colos- 
 sal mistake, a measureless crime ! 
 
 The Utopians favor pleasures which do not 
 debase or cause injury to others. They are 
 represented as being far more humane than the 
 Christians of contemporary Europe. This 
 was very noticeable in the treatment of 
 criminals. While England was " hanging 
 thieves by the score on a single gaUows," 
 the Utopians were striving to reform their 
 erring ones and resorting to the death pen- 
 alty only in extreme cases. Women, though 
 by no means exercising the rights they en- 
 joy with us, were treated with far more con- 
 sideration than they received in the Europe 
 
244 THE UTOPIA OF STB THOMAS MORE. 
 
 of the sixteenth century. They were ad- 
 mitted to the order of the priesthood, among 
 other privileges accorded them ; and in the 
 marriage relation they received a considera- 
 tion which England, for many generations 
 after " Utopia " was written, refused to yield 
 them. 
 
 One thing in regard to the divorces in 
 Utopia is surprising when we rememher that 
 Sir Thomas More was a most devoted Roman 
 Catholic. In the Altrurian island, we are 
 informed that : " Now and then it chanceth, 
 whereas a man and a woman cannot agree be- 
 tween themselves, both of them finding other 
 with whom they hope to live more quietly 
 and merrily, they by full consent of them 
 both be divorced asunder and married again 
 to others. But that not without the sanc- 
 tion of the council after the petition has 
 been diligently considered." 
 
 In the present transition stage of our 
 society peculiar interest attaches to the social 
 and economic conditions of Utopia, as here we 
 find much that is suggestive and which will 
 prove helpful if we keep in view the fact that, 
 while the altruistic spirit of Utopia is the 
 
THE UTOPIA OF SIR THOMAS MORE. 245 
 
 spirit which must prevail in the society of 
 the future if man is to progress, nevertheless 
 the methods suggested by Sir Thomas More, 
 though they were as enlightened and intelli- 
 gent as the civilization of his time could com- 
 prehend, are not the methods which en-xi 
 lightened civilization in the present age 
 would employ, as they are too arbitrary and 
 artificial. We are now beginning to per- 
 ceive that the evils of society are to be rem-kj^ 
 edied (1) by education, — a wise foresight, 
 which never loses sight of the civilization of 
 to-morrow and appreciates the importance of 
 individual development ; (2) the establish- 
 ment of conditions favoring justice and free- 
 dom and fraternity, which can be rendered 
 possible only by the abolition of all class privi- 
 leges and special legislation. Moreover, the 
 fetich of gold-worship must be overthrown, 
 because it more than war, pestilence or famine 
 destroys the happiness of millions, while it 
 corrupts the few. 
 
 Sir Thomas More appreciated the fact 
 that the gold madness was enslaving millions 
 and destroying the happiness and comfort of 
 the masses. Thus, among the Utopians, 
 
246 THE UTOPIA OF SIR THOMAS MOHE. 
 
 lie tells us that : " They marvel that gold, 
 which of its own nature is a thing so unpro- 
 fitable, is now among all people in so high 
 estimation that man himself, by whose yea, 
 and for whose use it is so much set by, is in 
 much less estimation than the gold itself. 
 Insomuch as a lumpish blockhead churl, and 
 which hath no more art than an ass, shall 
 have, nevertheless, many wise and good men 
 in subjection and bondage, only for this — 
 because he hath a great heap of gold. * * * 
 They marvel at and detest the madness of 
 them which to those rich men in whose debt 
 and danger they be not, do give honor for 
 no other consideration but because they be 
 rich." 
 
 In Utopia the spectres of want and starva- 
 tion, which haunt our poor and fill the future 
 with frightful forebodings, are unknown; 
 but they were very much in evidence in Euro- 
 pean life during the fifteenth and sixteenth 
 centuries. It was during the century of Sir 
 Thomas More that there : " Arose for the first 
 time in England a true proletariat divorced 
 from the soil and dependent entirely upon 
 wages, with no resources against old age, 
 
THE UTOPIA OF SIR THOMAS MORE. 247 
 
 sickness or lack of employment. The misery 
 of the masses was perhaps never greater." * 
 The author of " Utopia " points out " that, 
 while in other countries the laborers know 
 they will starve when age comes unless they 
 can scrape some money together, no matter 
 how much the commonwealth in which they 
 live may flourish," in Utopia things are very 
 difEerent ; for there " There is no less pro- 
 vision for them that were once laborers, but 
 who are now weak and impotent, than for 
 those who do labor." 
 
 A comparison is next made by Sir Thomas 
 More, in which the justice and wisdom of the 
 Utopian in providing for an insurance or 
 pension for the aged laborers are set over 
 against the murderous, selfish and short- 
 sighted system which was then in practice, 
 and which unhappily has been intensified 
 rather than weakened with the flight of cent- 
 uries. " For what justice is this," he urges, 
 " that a rich goldsmith or an usurer, or in 
 short any of them which do nothing at all, . 
 or if they do anything, it is of a kind not 
 necessary for the commonwealth, should have 
 
 * Maurice Adams, introduction to " Utopia." 
 
248 THE UTOPIA OF SIR THOMAS MORE. 
 
 pleasant and wealthy lives, either by idleness, 
 or by unnecessary business, when in the 
 meantime poor laborers, carters, ironsmiths, 
 carpenters and ploughmen by so great and 
 continual toil be scarcely able to live, though 
 their work be necessary toil, without which 
 no commonwealth could endure, and yet they 
 have so hard and poor a living and live so 
 wretched and miserable a life that the state and 
 conditions of the laboring beasts be much bet- 
 ter ? Moreover, these poor wretches be persis- 
 tently tormented with barren and unfruitful 
 labor, and the thought of their poor, indigent 
 and beggarly old age killeth them. For their 
 daily wages be so little that it will not suf&ce 
 for the same day, much less it yieldeth any 
 overplus that may be laid up for the relief 
 of old age." More than three centuries have 
 passed, and yet this vivid picture of unjust 
 and unequal social conditions is a graphic 
 characterization of present-day society 
 throughout the Christian world. " Is it not 
 ian unjust and unkind public weal," con- 
 tinues the author of " Utopia," " which gives 
 great fees and rewards to gentlemen, as they 
 call them, to such as be either idle persons, 
 
THE UTOPIA OF SIR THOMAS MORE. 249 
 
 flatterers or devisers of vain pleasures, while 
 it makes no provision for poor ploughmen, 
 coUiers, laborers, carters, ironsmiths and car- 
 penters, without whom no commonwealth can 
 continue ? But after it hath abused the 
 laborers of their lusty and flowering age, at 
 the last when they be oppressed by old age 
 and sickness, forgets their labor and leaveth 
 them most unkindly with miserable death." 
 
 After the vivid and painfully true picture 
 of the essential injustice of governments 
 manipulated by the influence of caste privi- 
 lege or gold. Sir Thomas More makes a 
 scorching arraignment of the soulless capi- 
 talism of his time, which is even more 
 applicable to our age of trusts, monopolies, 
 syndicates and multi-millionaires. " The rich 
 men" he declares, " not only hy private 
 fraud, hut also hy common laws, do every 
 day pluck away from the poor some part of 
 their daily living. Therefore, when I con- 
 sider all these commonwealths which nowa- 
 days do flourish, I can perceive nothing but 
 a certain conspiracy of rich men procuring 
 their own commodities under the name and 
 title of the commonwealth. They invent 
 
250 THE UTOPIA OF SIR THOMAS MOBE. 
 
 and devise all means and crafts, first how 
 to keep safely without fear of losing that 
 which they have unjustly gathered together, 
 and next how to hire and abuse the work 
 and labor of the poor for as little money as 
 may be. These most wicked and vicious 
 men by their insatiable covetousness divide 
 among themselves those things which would 
 have sufficed for all men." 
 
 Again he compares the murderous, merci- 
 less reign of the titled and capitalistic 
 classes, who had become well-nigh all-power- 
 ful through special privileges, with the opei^ 
 ation of different conditions in the land he 
 is describing. " How far be they," he ob- 
 serves, " from the wealth and felicity of the 
 Utopian commonwealth, where all the desire 
 for money with the use thereof is banished ! 
 How great the occasion of wretchedness and 
 mischief is plucked up by the roots, for who 
 knoweth not that fraud, theft, rapine, brawl- 
 ing, quarreling, strife, treason and murder, 
 which by daily punishments are rather re- 
 venged than restrained, do die when money 
 dieth ? And also that fear, care, labor and 
 watching do perish when money perisheth ? " 
 
THE UTOPIA OF SIB THOMAS MORE. 251 
 
 Sir Thomas More further emphasizes the 
 wisdom of the Utopian provisions, by calling 
 attention to the fact that after failure of the 
 crops in England it was no uncommon thing 
 for thousands to starve for food, while the 
 rich possessed abundant stores of food to 
 have afBorded plenty for all, and by a just 
 distribution of wealth, whereby the wealth 
 producers might have had their own, no 
 industrious man, woman or child need have 
 died of starvation or the plague which not 
 infrequently accompanied the famine. 
 
 From the foregoing we see how high an 
 altitude Sir Thomas More had reached, even 
 in his savage and self-absorbed age. From 
 his eminence he caught luminous glimpses 
 which come only to prophet souls. There can 
 be no doubt but that the author of " Utopia " 
 derived much inspiration from Plato, even 
 as such social thinkers of our time as 
 William Morris, Joaquin Miller, William 
 Dean Howells, and Edward Bellamy have de- 
 rived, consciously and directly, or uncon- 
 sciously and indirectly, much inspiration from 
 Sir Thomas More. All these and many 
 other earnest lovers of the race have re- 
 
252 THE UTOPIA OF SIR THOMAS MORE. 
 
 fleeted, in a more or less true and helpful 
 way, the persistent dream of the wisest and 
 noblest spirits of all time : a dream which 
 has haunted the aspiring soul since the first 
 man faced the heavens with a question and 
 a prayer ! 
 
 Sir Thomas More failed in the details of his 
 plan, but the soul of " Utopia," or the spirit 
 which permeated the work, was purely altru- 
 istic and in alignment with the law of evo- 
 lutionary growth ; hence, his work was in 
 deed and truth a voice of dawn crying in 
 the night — a prophet voice proclaiming the 
 coming day ! As Maurice Adams well says : 
 "Sir Thomas More found the true common- 
 wealth noiohere. But in so far as the social 
 order he advocated is based on reason and 
 justice, — the nowhere must at length become 
 somewhere, nay, everywhere. Some of the 
 reforms which he perceived to be necessary 
 have already been realized, others are being 
 striven for to-day. May we not hope many 
 more will at length be attained ? Surely 
 never before was there such a wide-spread re- 
 volt against social wrong and injustice; such 
 a firm resolve to remove the preventable evils 
 
THE UTOPIA OF SIB THOMAS MORE. 253 
 
 of life ; or such a world-wide aspiration for 
 a reorganization of society on a juster basis. 
 It cannot be that the promise of better things 
 is forever to remain unfulfilled ! From the 
 summit of the hills of thought may we not 
 catch the first faint streaks of the dawn of a 
 nobler day ? Can we not trace the dim out- 
 line of a real Society slowly forming amongst 
 us, in which none shall be disinherited or 
 trodden under foot in a senseless and reckless 
 race for wealth, but where all shall be truly 
 free to develop the full capacity of their 
 nature in cooperation with their fellows for 
 a Common Good ? " 
 
XII.— HISTORICAL PARALLELS PRESENT- 
 ED BY THE LIVES OF SENECA AND 
 SIR THOMAS MORE. 
 
 Sir Thomas More and the Roman philosopher Seneca— Each entered 
 the arena of life in a time of civilization-wide revolution— Dur- 
 ing Seneca's hfe Christianity rose to such commanding pro- 
 portions as to alarm conventionalism and paganism and led to 
 the most savage persecutions— Like the century of More, the 
 age of Seneca was preeminently an age of change— The influ- 
 ence of Christianity upon paganism in the philosopher's day 
 compared with the influence exerted by the New Learning 
 and the Reformation during the time of Sir Thomas More— 
 Thefathersof Senecaand More both desired their sons to be- 
 come advocates, and later to enter political life— Seneca's pas- 
 sion for the lofty teachings of Stoicism — The strong religious 
 bent of Sir Thomas More's mind and his early enthusiasm for 
 the New Learning — The philosophers in youth offend their 
 sovereigns— Later each basks in royal favor only to come to 
 tragic ends by the hands which raised them to political emi- 
 nence—The blot on the escutcheons of Seneca and More — The 
 writings of these philosophers compared— General observa- 
 tions on their lives. 
 
 The points o£ resemblance between the 
 personal characteristics and intellectual bent 
 o£ Sir Thomas More and the philosopher 
 Seneca, and the striking parallels in the lead- 
 ing historical events associated with their 
 lives, are at once interesting and suggestive. 
 
 Both were ushered into the world at mo- 
 ments when civilization-wide revolutions were 
 254 
 
SENECA AND SIB THOMAS MORE. 255 
 
 in progress. Seneca was only thirty-five 
 years of age when Tiberius Caesar died. 
 During his life Paul preached Christianity in 
 Rome, and before he died the new religion 
 had so revolutionized thought that alarmed 
 pagan conventionalism was seeking to ex- 
 terminate the new light by methods almost 
 as barbarous as those adopted by the Spanish 
 Inquisition to stamp out heresy during the 
 century of Sir Thomas More. The age of 
 Seneca was preeminently an age of change. 
 In rapid succession, emperor followed 
 emperor, until the cup of Rome's shame and 
 iniquity was full. And had it not been for 
 the strong moral and religious stimulus which 
 primitive Christianity infused into the Greek 
 and Roman world, before the church grew 
 rich and forgot the life and teachings of her 
 founder, it is highly probable that civiliza- 
 tion would have gone out in a night of bar- 
 barism, during the tragical centuries which 
 followed the death of Seneca. Even so, had 
 it not been for the moral and religious stim- 
 ulus infused into a degraded, corrupt and 
 superstitious civilization by the apostles of 
 the new learning and the leaders of the 
 
256 HISTORICAL PARALLELS PRESENTED. 
 
 Reformation, it is difficult to predict to what 
 depths man might have fallen in the century 
 of Sir Thomas More ; and during succeeding 
 generations, the savage barbarity of Cortes, 
 and the Spanish generally, in the new 
 world, and the cruelty of the Portuguese in 
 India, no less than the spirit which gave life 
 to the Inquisition, hint at the profundity of 
 heartlessness and depravity which was pres- 
 ent at this time, where the beneficent influ- 
 ence of these moral and religious revolutions 
 was not felt. 
 
 The fathers of More and Seneca were both 
 men of some means, and each desired his son 
 to become an advocate, and later to enter the 
 arena of political life. Both these gifted 
 youths found their chief delight in moral, 
 ethical and religious truths. Seneca early 
 heard the exalted teachings of the noblest 
 philosophers of the pagan world, and became 
 so ijnpressed with the beauty of Stoicism, 
 that while other wealthy youths were loit- 
 ering in the public baths, unblushingly de- 
 scribing the details of most revolting out- 
 rages and degrading orgies in which they 
 had been participants, Seneca was eagerly 
 
BY rilE LIVES OF SENECA AND MORE. 257 
 
 drinking in the high, pure ethics of the 
 Stoic philosophers, Attains and Sotion. 
 And when his associates were spending their 
 evenings in debauching pastimes, this high- 
 minded youth was wont to retire alone and 
 meditate upon the philosophy of life and the 
 teachings which had enabled Socrates to 
 face death with a smile. In after life, Sen- 
 eca wrote that it was his invariable custom 
 before sleeping to quietly review his con- 
 duct of the day, asking himself first, " What 
 evil have I this day cured?" secondly, 
 " What vice have I resisted ? " thirdly, " In 
 what particular have I improved ? " And, 
 he added, when referring to these examina- 
 tions, " Why should I conceal or reserve 
 anything, or make any scruple of inquiry 
 into my errors, when I can say to myself, 
 ' Do so no more, and for this once I will f or- 
 give you r 
 
 At a corresponding period in his youth, 
 we have found that Sir Thomas More was 
 scourging himself on Fridays and wearing 
 a hair shirt next his skin and preparing to 
 take the religious vows, exhibiting the same 
 determination to become a monk as did Seneca 
 17 
 
258 HISTORICAL PARALLELS PRESENTED 
 
 to abandon the home of his father and 
 cast in his lot with the despised Stoic phi- 
 losophers. But in both cases their decisions 
 were overruled, and both became public 
 advocates pursuant to the ardent wish of their 
 fathers. Yet, throughout life, the ideals 
 which had haunted their youthful years 
 remained with them, and to a degree colored 
 the sunset of their careers. 
 
 When Seneca was a young man he in- 
 curred the displeasure of Caius Csesar, who 
 was jealous of the philosopher's influence 
 over the minds of the people, and the emperor 
 ordered that he be put to death on account 
 of his eloquence. This order was rescinded 
 only at the suggestion of a favorite, who 
 urged that Seneca's fame was rapidly waning 
 and his health was so poor that disease would 
 shortly execute the imperial decree. Seneca 
 wisely withdrew to private life until Caius 
 Csesar fell beneath the weight of his infamy. 
 But a new misfortune awaited him. The 
 moral obliquity of the Empress Messalina, 
 revealed in her monstrous crimes and un- 
 equalled immorality, awakened horror and 
 disgust in all noble Romans who held however 
 
BY THE LIVES OF SENECA AND MORE. 259 
 
 loosely to high ideals, and to whom mercy 
 and justice were more than empty words. 
 The emperor's two nieces, Julia and Agrip- 
 pina, sought to overthrow the woman whose 
 life was a scandal to the world. The nieces 
 were by no means paragons of virtue ; but 
 many of the noblest men of Rome espoused 
 their cause, believing that the downfall of 
 Messalina was imperatively demanded. 
 Among these none was more conspicuous 
 than Seneca, the most eloquent statesman of 
 the empire. Messalina, realizing her peril, 
 acted with promptness. Her minions were 
 employed and a charge was formally made 
 against Julia, in which it was alleged she 
 had carried on an intrigue with the phi- 
 losopher. There does not appear to have 
 been a particle of evidence that directly 
 or indirectly tended to criminate the accused, 
 but both were punished without the sem- 
 blance of a trial. Julia was first exiled and 
 then assassinated, and Seneca was banished 
 to the rocky, barren and plague-infested 
 island of Corsica. 
 
 It will be remembered that when Sir 
 Thomas More first appeared in political life, 
 
260 HISTORICAL PARALLELS PRESENTED 
 
 he aroused the implacable hatred of his 
 sovereign, Henry VII., by so eloquently 
 championing the cause of the poor and 
 oppressed that the royal demand was refused, 
 and that thereupon the king imprisoned his 
 father; and though Thomas More retired 
 from public life, the king was by no means 
 satisfied ; indeed, he sought in so many ways 
 to find a pretext by which he might punish 
 his eloquent and dangerous subject, that 
 young More was preparing to flee from Eng- 
 land when Henry VII. died. The Roman 
 philosopher incurred the displeasure of his 
 sovereigns, and was forced first into retire- 
 ment owing to his eloquence, and later into 
 exile, on account of his boldness in opposing 
 the merciless and degrading rule of the most 
 immoral woman of any age. Sir Thomas 
 More so aroused the hatred of his sovereign 
 by his eloquent defence of the cause of the 
 poor and oppressed and his opposition to 
 injustice and despotism, that he was com.- 
 pelled to retire to private life, and had it not 
 been for the timely death of the king he 
 would have fled from England in order to 
 save his head. 
 
BY THE LIVES OF SENECA AND MORE. 261 
 
 It fell to Seneca's lot to be the tutor of 
 the young Nero ; and when the latter became 
 emperor, Seneca, for some time, virtually 
 ruled Rome. These were days of gladness, 
 in which mercy and justice once more found 
 a place in the Eternal City, and men began 
 to believe that a golden age was dawning. 
 Seneca, however, was not deceived in the 
 character of his pupil. He knew that the 
 day would come but too soon when Nero 
 would cast aside all wholesome restraint and 
 reveal his true character. This was illus- 
 trated in a remark made at the time to a 
 friend who was descanting on the clemency 
 and justice of the young emperor, whereupon 
 Seneca laconically replied that " when the 
 lion had tasted blood his innate cruelty would 
 return." Turning from the court of Rome 
 to that of Henry VHI., we find Sir Thomas 
 More standing very high in the favor of the 
 young king, who in his pride, vainglory, 
 despotism and sensualism, so strikingly re- 
 sembled Nero. It was for the purpose of in- 
 structing and influencing the rule of his king 
 that Sir Thomas More was led to pen " Uto- 
 pia," at the time when Henry VIII. was urg- 
 
262 HISTORICAL PARALLELS PRESENTED 
 
 ing him to take a leading place in his council. 
 And, indeed, it appears that to a certain 
 degree the suggestions of More were acted 
 upon by Henry ; for, at More's instance, 
 Wolsey was compelled to make retrenchments 
 in national exjjenses ; and one of More's first 
 acts after he came into high favor and power 
 was to negotiate a treaty of peace with 
 France, by which Henry VIII. voluntarily 
 surrendered his conquests in that land. 
 Henry's liberal patronage of culture and his 
 open encouragement of the cause of the new 
 learning shed lustre over the early years of 
 his sombre reign. More, however, was no 
 further deceived in the real nature of his 
 monarch than had Seneca been in regard to 
 Nero, as will be apparent if we call to mind 
 his memorable remark to William Roper, 
 before referred to, when the great statesman 
 expressed the conviction that " if his head 
 would win Henry a castle in France, the 
 king would not hesitate to sacrifice it." 
 
 The philosopher, while he was still the 
 councillor of Nero, acquiesced in the em- 
 peror's desire to have his mother murdered ; 
 and Sir Thomas More, while lord chancel- 
 
Br THE LIVES OF SENECA AND MORE. 263 
 
 lor of England, permitted high-minded people 
 to be cruelly persecuted and slain on account 
 of their religious convictions. Thus, upon 
 the otherwise fair escutcheons of both these 
 great statesmen and philosophers, we find 
 indelible stains. Seneca, virtually the prime 
 minister, and, for a time, the controlling- 
 spirit in the government of the empire, in 
 the very nature of the case could hold his 
 position only so long as the savagery of 
 Nero's nature, no less than his vices and ex- 
 cesses, could be curbed, unless he should 
 have been willing to throw his philosophy 
 and his high ideals to the winds and unite 
 with the young despot in his mad rush to- 
 ward the pit. This last alternative it was as 
 impossible for Seneca to entertain as it was 
 impossible for Sir Thomas More to trample 
 under foot his convictions in regard to the 
 " supremacy act." Hence, the hour came 
 at length which the Roman philosopher had 
 long foreseen, when the emperor hated yet 
 feared him. Vice, injustice and cruelty can- 
 not brook virtue, justice and clemency with a 
 good grace. Npro desired to destroy Seneca, 
 but for some time feared the popularity of 
 
2Qi HISTORICAL PARALLELS PRESENTED 
 
 the philosopher. After the death of Seneca's 
 great friend, the sturdy Roman general, 
 Burrhus, the emperor determined to act. He 
 accordingly sent word to the philosopher 
 that it was his will that he die. This meant 
 that Seneca must kill himself or be executed 
 publicly. The great Stoic chose the former 
 alternative and opened a vein. 
 
 Turning to Sir Thomas More, we find 
 him prime minister of the realm and the 
 most powerful councillor of the king. But 
 Henry has set his heart on marrying an 
 English maiden, and he has failed to receive 
 the sanction of the church to his suit for a 
 divorce from Catherine of Aragon. He de- 
 sires to act independently and he wishes the 
 aid of his prime minister. Sir Thomas 
 More sees in the step a coming religious 
 storm. If Henry acts before the Pope con- 
 sents to the divorce there will be a rupture 
 between the Papal See and the throne of 
 England. Henry will be excommunicated if 
 he refuses to put away his bride, and the 
 lord chancellor knows full well that the 
 king will secede from Rome rather than be 
 denied the object upon which he has set his 
 
BT THE LIVES OF SENECA AND MORE. 265 
 
 afPections. He sees that the king who has 
 earned the name of " Defender of the Faith " 
 by repljdng to Luther, may in time find him- 
 self within the Lutheran fold, if the battle 
 with Rome is carried much further. This, 
 doubtless, was one of the most trying periods 
 in the life of More ; his clear vision perceived 
 the inevitable, and, moreover, he saw on every 
 hand secession from Rome. The fabric of 
 the Christian church seemed to be falling 
 in pieces, and he was called upon to sanction 
 a step which he knew would widen the breach 
 between England and Rome, if indeed it did 
 not lead to the complete severance of the 
 English Church from the Roman See. Sir 
 Thomas More chose to retire from office. 
 Henry accepted his resignation with reluct- 
 ance, and had the great statesman possessed 
 sufficient wealth to enable him to leave 
 England for a term of years, he might have 
 escaped his tragic end. He had, however^ 
 refused all ofBers of money from the king. 
 He had also declined a handsome purse made 
 up by certain orthodox Catholic prelates and 
 offered him as a token of esteem for his de- 
 fence of Catholicism. Noav, he was well- 
 
266 lilSTOHICAL PARALLELS PRESENTED 
 
 nigh penniless, and when the " supremacy 
 act " passed, he saw clearly that he would 
 have to do violence to his conviction of right, 
 or go to the Tower, and most probably from 
 thence to the block. It was a severe strug- 
 gle, for he loved life and was devoted to his 
 family. At length he reached his decision 
 and calmly accepted the block. Like Seneca, 
 he went from the most commanding position 
 in the government of his sovereign to an 
 unnatural death, at the behest of the ruler 
 who had professed the greatest attachment 
 to him, and who had for a time, in a limited 
 way, heeded his wise counsel. 
 
 So far as we have authentic records we are 
 led to believe that the private life of Seneca 
 was singularly pure and beautiful. His de- 
 votion to his aged mother was as touching 
 as affection so deep was rare in his age. 
 During his exile in Corsica, his chief concern 
 was for this old parent in Rome who was 
 mourning for him. There are few things 
 in literature more touchingly beautiful than 
 his messages to her during his banishment. 
 " What," says he in one of these letters, 
 " though fortune has thrown me where the 
 
BY THE LIVES OF SENECA AND MORE. 267 
 
 most magnificent abode is a cottage? the 
 humblest cottage, if it be the home of vir- 
 tue, may be more beautiful than all temples. 
 No place is narrow which can contain the 
 crowd of glorious virtues ; and as for poverty, 
 every one who is not corrupted by the mad- 
 ness of avarice and luxury knows that it is 
 no evil. How little does man need, and how 
 easily can he secure that ! It is the soul 
 that makes us rich or poor, and the soul 
 follows us into exile, and finds and enjoys 
 its own blessing even in the most barren 
 solitude." In another letter he reminds his 
 mother of her own beautiful life and its in- 
 fluence upon him. Indeed, the sohcitude and 
 afEection revealed in these communications 
 to his grief-stricken parent draw us very near 
 to Seneca., and make us feel that he was far 
 more than a great philosopher; he was a 
 man of deep and pure affection, and for his 
 age and environment may be classed among 
 the good as well as the great. 
 
 Of Sir Thomas More the same may be 
 said with equal emphasis. His home, as 
 has already been pointed out, was a minia- 
 ture Utopia. His devotion to his eldest 
 
268 HISTORICAL PARALLELS PRESENTED 
 
 daughter, who was his companion and con- 
 fidante, was as strong as the affection borne 
 by Seneca for his mother. His concern for 
 his children and the affection which he dis- 
 played were rare in those days when children 
 were seldom treated as companions, and more 
 often thrashed than caressed. 
 
 In the writings of these two great philos- 
 ophers we find striking parallels present, as 
 well as notable differences in methods and 
 general scope of thought. Each strove to 
 increase the happiness of humanity and to 
 elevate the ideals of mankind. Felicity 
 through a higher, purer and simpler life : 
 this was the burden of the message each 
 emphasized. Seneca devoted himself to in- 
 dividual development. He appealed to the 
 conscience of man and pointed to the soul 
 as the throne of happiness or misery. His 
 appeal was to the unit. More supplemented 
 this by broadly sketching out a civilization 
 in which justice and altruism should prevail, 
 and the influence of environment favor 
 the development of the best in man. To the 
 starving wanderer, the wild berry is excellent 
 food ; but the cultivated berry is twice 
 
BY THE LIVES OF SENECA AND MORE. 269 
 
 as large and doubly as nutritious. Society 
 had developed during the interim between 
 the age of Seneca and the century of More, 
 and the latter took up the work where Seneca 
 had dropped it, and showed how the happiness 
 of the whole people could be secured through 
 infusing altruism into the veins of the social 
 organism. He was not reactionary, as a 
 social philosopher, he did not ignore or 
 minify the individual responsibiUty ; but fol- 
 lowing the course of evolutionary develop- 
 ment, he applied his teachings to society 
 rather than to the individual, and in his 
 work gave a luminous glimpse of the general 
 happiness which will prevail when civilization 
 shall become permeated by justice and love. 
 Such are some interesting points suggested 
 by the lives of these two men, who were the 
 first philosophers of their respective ages, 
 who were orators, statesmen and authors, 
 who, alike, rose to the foremost position in 
 their government, and who met tragic deaths 
 at. the hand of their sovereign. So strik- 
 ing is the similarity in their natures, and so 
 like is the pattern woven for them by the 
 loom of fate, that if the stories of their lives 
 
270 SENEGA AND SIS. THOMAS MORE. 
 
 had found their way into literature as trag- 
 edy instead of history — productions of the 
 imagination instead of narration of facts — 
 the hfe of Sir Thomas More would have been 
 regarded more as an adaptation from the 
 drama of Seneca than as an original crea- 
 tion. It would have been universally claimed 
 that the writer who dealt with the English 
 subject not only had patterned his hero after 
 the model of the Eoman statesman, philoso- 
 pher, orator and author, but that he had 
 borrowed the events depicted from the older 
 tragedy, confining his original work chiefly 
 to the changes required by the difference in 
 the civilizations, nationalities and general 
 environment, in order that the latter play 
 might conform to the England of the early 
 part of the sixteenth century. 
 
XIII.— A SURVEY OF THE FIRST CENTURY 
 OF MODERN TIxMES. 
 
 The fall of Constantinople and the dawn of the first century of mod- 
 ern times— The political revolution of this period— The down- 
 fall of feudalistic anarchy and the reestablishment of central- 
 ized power — What this change meant to the people and to, 
 civilization — The revolution in art in Italy — The New Learn- 
 ing and the Reformation Dorth of the Alps, or the revolution in 
 religion — The march of science and progress as seen in such 
 works as Copernicus accomplished ; the invention of the 
 printing press, and the establishment of humane, liberal 
 educational institutions — The revolution in commerce wrought 
 by the discovery of the New World and the passage to India 
 by Portugal— Leading factors and dominant ideals which pro- 
 duced this five-fold revolution — The kinship of luminous peri- 
 ods — A glance at the Periclean age— The golden age of Greece 
 and the Renaissance compared— A survey of the transition 
 period in which we are living— The century of Sir Thomas 
 More and our time compared. 
 
 In surveying the wonderful century Avhich 
 
 opened in 1453, when Constantinople fell 
 
 and the scholarship of that old Christian 
 
 capital was dispersed over western Europe, 
 
 we are impressed with the universal unrest 
 
 which characterized this period. Upon the 
 
 forehead of this new day the word " Change " 
 
 was blazoned. The flight of the scholars 
 
 from their home on the dreamy Bosphorus 
 271 
 
272 A SURVEY OF THE FIRST CENTURY 
 
 gave to the restless minds of western nations 
 new ideas and thoughts, which became dom- 
 inant influences in lives that moulded civ- 
 ilization afresh and stamped the age with 
 the royalty of true genius. But the coming 
 of the Eastern scholars, with the wealth of 
 thought and ideals which had crowned Gre- 
 cian civilization with unprecedented glory, 
 was merely one of many influences which 
 operated almost simultaneously at this point 
 in history. And perhaps the first thing 
 that will impress the student trained to 
 study history, as it has been written since 
 the days of Herodotus, will be the political 
 revolution of this time, which marked the 
 overthrow of the anarchistic feudalism of 
 the Middle Ages, and the establishment of 
 centralization in government. The feudal 
 barons sank before the kingly power ; a 
 change which carried with it evils and bless- 
 ings. The conditions essentially anarchical 
 which prevailed when the nations were cut 
 up into petty provinces and smaller feudal 
 holdings were by no means favorable to prog- 
 ress or the advance of civilization. So long 
 as such conditions existed, war was neces- 
 
OF MODERN TIMES. 273 
 
 sarily the foremost occupation of a large 
 proportion of those who served under nu- 
 merous ambitious, unscrupulous and quarrel- 
 some lords, barons and princes. But, on the 
 other hand, under the feudal system the poor 
 had been in many ways better off than they 
 were in the early years of triumphant mon- 
 archy. As vassals, they possessed houses and 
 lived in a condition of comparative comfort, 
 which was in numerous instances changed to 
 a life of beggary, crime and starvation after 
 the lords were humbled and impoverished. 
 Sir Thomas More and other writers have 
 given vivid pictures of the misery of the 
 poor, during the decades which marked the 
 transition from feudalism to the supremacy 
 of monarchy, and for many years after 
 the crown had been finally confirmed in 
 power. Hence, whether we regard the over- 
 throw of feudalism and the establishment of 
 monarchy as a retrogressive step, or as a 
 necessary stage in the evolution of govern- 
 ment through order to liberty, we are bound 
 to recognize this political revolution as one 
 of the great factors which operated during 
 
 this period in changing the face, and to a 
 
 i8 
 
274 A SURVEY OF THE FIRST CENTURY 
 
 great extent the course, of western civiliza- 
 tion. The transition came largely as a natiu-al 
 result flowing from the essential anarchism 
 and brigandage of feudalistic rule, and the 
 tyranny and oppression which characterized 
 baronial domination. It was rendered pos- 
 sible by a widespread belief among the 
 masses that the revolution would result in a 
 larger freedom for them and a greater de- 
 gree of prosperity, accruing from a more 
 stable government. That the immediate re- 
 sults of the establishment of kingly power 
 were bitterly disappointing to the poor, at 
 least in some quarters, as, for example, in 
 England, is unquestionably true. Yet the 
 change was undeniably beneficial in many 
 ways, notably in cementing together in 
 nations great groups of peoples who had 
 wasted their energies in continual inter- 
 necine struggles. Through uniting these 
 various elements, order was in a great degree 
 evoked, thus rendering constructive work 
 possible. And among the beneficent fruits 
 of this change we note the rise and onward 
 march of literature and art, the development 
 of domestic and foreign trade, the establish- 
 
OF MODERN TIMES. 275 
 
 ment of manufactures, the rapid extension 
 of commerce, and the rise of invention. In 
 a word, the energies of man, which had for 
 generations been engrossed in the struggles 
 of petty lords, barons and princes, were now 
 turned from destructive to constructive work. 
 Hence it is, I think, safe to say that the po- 
 litical revolution of the Renaissance, though 
 attended with widespread misery and charac- 
 terized by much brutality, was favorable 
 rather than otherwise to the advancement of 
 civilization. Moreover, the widespread igno- 
 rance among the masses and the essential 
 savagery of the public mind precluded the 
 possibility of a successful republic, while, by 
 centralizing the power, the task of placing 
 responsibility for injustice and oppression 
 was rendered much easier than under con- 
 ditions such as marked feudalism. 
 
 It is, of course, important for the student 
 of history to gain a clear conception of the 
 va.rious rulers and what they accomplished 
 during this period. But in a brief survey 
 of a century, such as we are making, it is 
 only possible to take cognizance of the most 
 striking figures engaged in the art of war 
 
276 A SUBVET OF THE FIRST CENTURY 
 
 or the game of politics. Among these, in 
 England, Edward IV., a vigorous and iron- 
 handed but profligate monarch, Henry VII., 
 who by his marriage with Elizabeth, daughter 
 of Edward IV., united the houses of York 
 and Lancaster, and Henry VIII., whose stir- 
 ring, despotic and turbulent rule marks one 
 of the most momentous periods in British 
 history, are the most prominent. It will 
 be remembered that it was during the 
 early decades of the century we are consider- 
 ing that the terrible civil war of the Roses, 
 which well-nigh destroyed royalty while 
 compassing the overthrow of feudalism in 
 England, was waged. ^ 
 
 In France, Louis XL, often termed the 
 Tiberius of France, a ruler who combined 
 courage with cunning, but who was destitute 
 of conscience and of honor, succeeded in 
 breaking to a great degree the power of 
 the feudal lords. The other sovereigns of 
 France * during the century we are consid^r- 
 
 * Although only regent and not mentioned as a sovereign by his- 
 torians, Anne of Beaujeu, eldest daughter of Louis XI., must not be 
 overlooked. This wonderful young woman during the seven 
 years prior to Charles VIU.'s reaching his twenty-first year was 
 regent according to the provision made by Louis XI. In this capacity 
 she displayed the most ability, wisdom, and in many respects states- 
 
OF MODERN TIMES. 277 
 
 ing were Charles VIII., Louis XII., and 
 Francis I. The latter, known as the Father 
 of Letters, was by far the most important 
 French royalty of the century. He was a man 
 of much greater power and merit than many 
 historians have allowed. Notwithstanding 
 a marked love of show and a shallow vanity, 
 he was a warm friend of literature and 
 art, which he patronized liberally. At his 
 court Da Vinci spent the closing years of 
 his turbulent life. 
 
 Germany and Austria were slower to 
 yield to the centralizing influences of the 
 age than England and France. The em- 
 perors of this period were Frederick III., 
 Maximilian I., and Charles V. These rulers 
 exerted more or less power over the German- 
 speaking people, but the independent spirit 
 of the Teutonic races rendered any step to- 
 ward absolutism very perilous for a monarch. 
 
 mansMp under the most trying ordeals of any French sovereign dur- 
 ing the century. Her virtual reign affords a striking illustration of 
 the capability of woman to rule. Nothing is more absurd than the 
 shallow cry of little souls who claim that women have not the 
 capacity to govern. Anne of Beaujeu reigned more wisely than any 
 male ruler of France in her century ; and in this connection let us 
 remember that it was in the early part of the same century in 
 which Anne of Beaujeu displayed her sagacity and intellectual 
 power that the Maid of Orleans saved France from the English 
 yoke. 
 
278 A SURVEY OF THE FIRST CENTURY 
 
 In Spain, Ferdinand and Isabella were the 
 most powerful rulers. During their reign 
 Granada feU and the Moorish civilization 
 was overthrown on the Spanish Peninsula. 
 Columbus discovered America and the 
 Spanish Inquisition was established. But 
 we must not overlook Charles I. (who was 
 also known as Charles V. of Germany), as 
 this daring prince was one of those Napole- 
 onic spirits who at intervals spread ruin 
 and misery over wide expanses of the earth, 
 that selfish or personal vanity and unbridled 
 ambition may be satisfied. Such characters 
 have been too frequently treated as heroes 
 instead of being branded as despoilers of 
 happiness, destroyers alike of the accumu- 
 lated treasures of ages and the lives of their 
 feUow-men. The states of Italy, as we have 
 seen, were under many forms of more or 
 less despotic rule. 
 
 The great historical fact to be borne in 
 mind is the political revolution of this 
 age ; it effected the overthrow of feudalism 
 and the establishment of centralized govern- 
 ment. 
 
 We next turn to the great threefold 
 
OF MODERN TIMES. 279 
 
 awakening of this century, which makes it 
 unique in history, and from which flow 
 consequences of measureless proportions. In 
 Italy, men's intellect awoke on the beauty 
 side of life. The rigid and narrow scholas- 
 ticism of the Middle Ages had been pro- 
 ductive of anything but aesthetic develop- 
 ment. As Symonds observes : " During 
 the middle ages man had lived enveloped 
 in a cowl ; he hgiLnot seen the beauty of 
 the world, or haj^een it only to cross him- 
 self and turn aside to tell his beads and 
 pray." Now, in the very home of the 
 church, asceticism gave way to sestheticism, 
 and art, new-born, leaped from the brain of 
 man. Angelo, Raphael, Da Vinci, Correg- 
 gio, Titian, and several other master brains 
 translated their wonderful dreams, concep- 
 tions and ideals into objective beauty on 
 canvas, or in stone or marble. The Italy of 
 this period drew inspiration from the golden 
 age of Grecian art and philosophy ; and 
 though, indeed, the expression of the genius 
 of this later time took in its dominant ideas 
 and conceptions a turn different from the 
 elder, yet the student of history will be 
 
280 A SURVEY OF THE FIRST CENTURY 
 
 , impressed with the kinship in thought, as- 
 piration and accompHshment between the 
 Periclean age of Greece and the Renaissance 
 in Italy. Both were summer seasons for art 
 and philosophy. In Italy, however, paint- 
 ing more than sculpture engaged the artistic 
 brain. It was earth's golden age in painting, 
 while speculative philosophy, metaphysics, 
 poetry and belles-lettre^ as well as sculpture 
 and architecture, engroslfed the mind of the 
 learned. '."'4. 
 
 Quite as marked, but radically different, 
 was the intellectual awakening North of the 
 Italian Peninsula. Here, the searching spirit 
 predominated. If the soul of art blossomed 
 in Italy, the soul of science was quickened 
 north of the Alps. There man's relation to 
 creation and the vast problems connected with 
 the verities of life and nature appealed to 
 the brain in the realm of intellectual ac- 
 tivity. It had been the spirit of unrest, or the 
 searching mind, that invented the printing 
 press just prior to the opening of this cent- 
 ury, as it was the scientific spirit that 
 urged Copernicus on and led him to take 
 up and demonstrate the truth which had 
 
OF MODERN TIMES. 281 
 
 been dimly apprehended by the Pythagorean 
 school of philosophers in the golden age of 
 ancient Greece. It was this same loyalty to 
 truth and passion for knowledge, blended 
 with a sturdy sincerity, that demanded 
 purity and honesty in religion as well as in 
 life, that fired Erasmus and the apostles 
 of the new learning, and which made the 
 words of Luther, Calvin, Zwingli and their 
 co-laborers electrify the masses. It was the 
 spiritual and ethical awakening of this age 
 that led Colet to establish St. Paul's gram- 
 mar school in London, Grocyn to found 
 the college of physicians in London, and 
 Sir Thomas More to write " Utopia." As 
 the speculative and beauty sides of the 
 human mind marked the best in life in Italy, 
 the passion for truth and the scientific spirit 
 were present in the movement north of the 
 Alps, in which we see the moral and relig- 
 ious energies of men profoundly stirred. It 
 was an ethical, religious, and scientific revo- 
 lution whose distinctive keynote is found in 
 the searching spirit which troubled the brain 
 of the sturdy Teutonic and Anglo-Saxon 
 peoples, as the wind troubles the placid lake. 
 
282 A SURVEY OF THE FIRST CENTURY 
 
 If from these clearly marked revolutions 
 north and south of the Alps we turn to the 
 Westward, we shall see, as has already been 
 observed, another awakening none the less 
 striking. But here, again, the dominant 
 thought is unlike those which impelled the 
 genius and the conscience of the peoples to 
 whom we have referred. Here, the spirit of in- 
 quiry indeed is present ; but it is not so marked 
 as the passion for gold. In a word, the 
 awakening is on another plane — the mania 
 for wealth and the lust for power mingle 
 with a spirit of religious fanaticism as intense, 
 unreasoning and violent as that which marked 
 the crusades. But the overmastering idea 
 present in the Spanish Peninsula is a passion 
 for the acquisition of wealth. It was the 
 hope of gaining the gold of the Indies that 
 led the Spanish crown to fit out the vessels 
 for Columbus, as it had been the exaction 
 in money and power which Columbus 
 made a condition when he appealed to the 
 king of Portugal that led to the prompt 
 refusal of his demands. It was the same 
 dream of acquiring the wealth of India 
 that led Portugal to send Vasco de Gama 
 
OF MODERN TIMES. 283 
 
 to India round the Cape of Good Hope, thus 
 opening the door of the Orient to western 
 Europe. It was thirst for gold, power and 
 conquest that led Cortes and other Spanish 
 conquerors to engage in their merciless con- 
 quests in America. In the overthrow of 
 Granada, as in the establishment of the In- 
 quisition, it is, of course, impossible to say 
 how much the desire for the splendid terri- 
 tory to be gained or the immense wealth 
 which would flow from confiscations and 
 seizures in the operation of the Inquisition, 
 and how much religious zeal and that fright- 
 ful fanaticism which expressed itself in in- 
 describable savagery, figured as controlling 
 influences. I am inclined to think that here 
 religious fanaticism overmatched the lust for 
 wealth and power ; but I think it fair to in- 
 fer that the latter was in each case a factor of 
 no insignificant proportions. The religious 
 frenzy which expressed itself so terribly in 
 the Spain of this century, and which was the 
 precursor of the darkest night of barbarity 
 in our era, belonged essentially to an 
 awakening on the physical or material side 
 of man. Such was in brief the characteristic 
 
284 A SURVEY OF THE FIE ST CENTURY 
 
 of the Spanish Peninsula of this century : a 
 mania for gold, which should give power 
 and supply the means for the gratification of 
 passion and ambition, was the dominating 
 thought of the region. 
 
 This threefold awakening, together with 
 the struggle of the spirit of freedom with 
 the monarchical bias, led to a fivefold rev- 
 olution, which may be readily fixed in the 
 mind of the student by the following simple 
 diagram of a five-pointed star : 
 
 It will be geen that this was one of the 
 royal centuries in the history of humanity ; an 
 
OF MODERN TIMES. 285 
 
 age of notable awakening and marvellous pro- 
 gress. It marks a distinct epoch in the annals 
 of man's advancement, and it laid the founda- 
 tion for the great century in which we live, as 
 the age of Phidias supplied the Renaissance 
 with inspiration in the domains of art, phi- 
 losophy, and hterature. Indeed, there seems 
 to be a subtle but conspicuous kinship 
 among the luminous periods of history. 
 Take, for example, the age of Pericles and 
 compare it with that of More, and we find 
 a most striking similarity in the many-sided 
 character of the intellectual awakening and 
 the transcendent brilliancy and profundity 
 of the genius which both produced. The 
 former century, extending from 500 b. c. to 
 400 B. c, witnessed the declining years of 
 Pythagoras and Confucius. It produced 
 Phidias, Socrates, Plato, Pericles, Herodotus, 
 Hippocrates, Euripides, Sophocles, Thucy- 
 dides, and Xenophon ; it was this period that 
 witnessed the erection of the Parthenon in 
 Athens, as the Renaissance witnessed the 
 building of St. Peter's in Rome. In survey- 
 ing the century of Sir Thomas More we shall 
 find that the intellectual activity was more 
 
286 A SURVEY OF THE FIRST CENTURY 
 
 general, and that it extended in a very real 
 manner over a wider territory, than did the 
 awakening in the age of Pericles. The cent- 
 ury in which we are living is another transi- 
 tion period ; but because we are in the midst 
 of a many-sided revolution, because half a 
 century lies before us, and because it is 
 only after a period is past that we can meas- 
 ure the greatness of its achievement, it is 
 impossible for us to comprehend the mag- 
 nitude of the movements in the social and 
 political worlds, which are now crystallizing 
 in the popular mind, the far-reaching ex- 
 tent of the revolution in religion, resulting 
 largely from modern scientific revelation, 
 archaeological research, critical methods 
 applied to the Bible, comparative reUgious 
 criticism, psychical research, and the wide 
 difiPusion of knowledge, which bid fair to out- 
 shine the Reformation in their influence. 
 (1) Men will doubtless be brought to a greater 
 appreciation of the need of a religion that 
 shall be expressed in lives of nobleness, gentle- 
 ness and love rather than dogmatics and cast- 
 iron theologies. (2) The scientific revolution 
 brought about by Darwin, Spencer, Wallace, 
 
OF MODERN TIMES. 287 
 
 and their illustrious co-laborers parallels the 
 Copernican discovery ; as the great astronomer 
 gave man a broader, a grander and a more 
 dignified conception of the universe, so the 
 evolutionary theory is giving to life a new 
 dignity and establishing the presence and 
 succession of law throughout all the universe. 
 As Columbus gave the elder civilization a 
 new world, the wonderful inventors of our 
 age have knit together all nations, and have 
 indeed given us a New World. But, as 
 before observed, it is impossible to measure 
 the achievements of a century not yet half- 
 spent, or to estimate the magnitude of what 
 has already been achieved.' 
 
 There is, however, another thought that 
 challenges the attention of the student of his- 
 tory and is worthy of passing notice. In how 
 far is one great period of awakening depend- 
 ent on similar periods which have preceded it ? 
 What is the kinship amongst the sun-kissed 
 eras of civilization ? It is generally admitted 
 that it was the rediscovered Greece, the open- 
 ing of the treasury of art, literature and phi- 
 losophy which came to the Itahan mind after 
 the fall of Constantinople, that was one of 
 
288 A SURVEY OF THE FIRST CENTURY 
 
 the leading causes of the Renaissance and the 
 New Learning. Indeed, the very terms in- 
 dicate the debt felt by the later to the former 
 time. And it was the golden age of Pericles 
 that produced the greatest sculptors, two of 
 the world's greatest philosophers, and the 
 father of medicine, to say nothing of the 
 dramatic poets and scholars who enriched 
 the literature of the world. It was this cent- 
 ury that witnessed the closing years of Py- 
 thagoras, who may be said to have been the 
 John the Baptist that prepared the way for 
 Copernicus. 
 
 Then, when we turn from the century of 
 More to our own time, we are impressed with 
 the same idea of the kinship of supreme mo- 
 ments in human progress. There is the same 
 unrest and intellectual activity to-day as in 
 the days which followed the Fall of Constanti- 
 nople, among the masses with dogmatic re- 
 ligion, which has become rich and powerful, 
 and is more concerned with creed and dogma 
 than with life, more anxious for the outward 
 form and letter than for the spirit of religion, 
 more desirous of holding the favor of the rich 
 and powerful than defending, protecting and 
 
OF MODERN TIMES. 289 
 
 aiding the poor and down-trodden, the same 
 widespread dissatisfaction as was seen when 
 the Reformation burst forth with the strength 
 of a western prairie fire ; on the other 
 hand, we find the same protest among the 
 nobler religious natures, as when Savonarola, 
 Erasmus, and Zwingli combated the essential 
 materiaUsm of the church. The apostles of 
 the higher criticism to-day are doing what 
 those great minds in the earlier century did. 
 Though the contention is somewhat different, 
 the result must necessarily be similar, each 
 group battling for a braver and truer recogni- 
 tion of the truth and a purer and finer religious 
 life which must follow a higher conception 
 of God and man. As Savonarola raised his 
 prophet voice against the worship of wealth 
 and the moral degradation of the church, in the 
 elder days, men like Professor Herron, imbued 
 with the same spirit, are assailing the criminal 
 cowardice and subserviency of the church, 
 which too frequently fawns before a cor- 
 rupt plutocracy, to-day. Everywhere do we 
 see signs of an impending religious refor- 
 mation or revolution greater than that which 
 in the sixteenth century asserted the right of 
 
290 A SURVEY OF THE FIRST CENTURY 
 
 man to use his God-given brain, and which 
 denied the sovereignty of the church. Nor is 
 this all ; as in the younger century Coper- 
 nicus revolutionized man's conception of the 
 heavens, and in so doing gave to thought 
 a new heaven, and as Columbus by discover- 
 ing America gave civilization a new earth, 
 so in our century the great physical scientists 
 have given man a new bible of biological 
 truth, while psychologists and students of 
 psychical science are opening to us year 
 by year a new world in the realm of mind 
 and are laying the foundation for a scientific 
 religion. 
 
 And with this awakening comes a broad, 
 courageous and independent spirit, which 
 eagerly reaches out to other lands and to 
 bygone ages to investigate anew whatever 
 truth may be offered or discovered. This, it 
 will be remembered, was also a distinguishing 
 feature of the Renaissance. 
 
 In social and political ideals, a revolution 
 is in progress no less marked than that which 
 overthrew the anarchy of feudalism and estab- 
 lished the centralization of power. This 
 revolution was foreshadowed by Sir Thomas 
 
OF MODERN TIMES. 291 
 
 More. Indeed, he may be said to have sowed 
 the seed-thought of the popular ideals which 
 are spreading throughout the civilized world. 
 A true " Utopia," or Altruria, founded, how- 
 ever, on less arbitrary principles, on a broader 
 and more republican ideal, as becomes the 
 broader thought of our age, is the inspiration 
 round which are rallying the social democrats 
 of the various schools. They rightly discard 
 the idea of kingship and the militarism of Sir 
 Thomas More's social scheme, but they see 
 that his dream was not visionary ; that if all 
 special privileges be abolished, or, in a word, 
 if society ceases to indulge in the most vicious 
 kind of paternalism (protecting and "cod- 
 dling " a small number of her offspring at the 
 expense of the millions), the storehouse of 
 nature and the facilities of civilization will 
 yield abundance for all the children of men 
 who choose to labor and enjoy. And they 
 are beginning to understand that the creed 
 " All for all " bears with it the happiness of 
 the individual no less than the progress and 
 elevation of humanity. As commerce and 
 discovery were among the dominating ideas 
 of the younger century, so invention and 
 
292 A SURVEY OF THE FIRST QENTURY 
 
 the scientific knowledge which shall lead to 
 the utilization of. the finer forces of nature 
 are among the regnant forces of to-day. 
 Steam as a carrier, though a discovery 
 of the earlier half of the present cen- 
 tury, has been brought into so universal 
 use during recent years, that the century 
 beginning with 1850 reahzes as has no other 
 age its benefits ; and electricity, of later dis- 
 covery, is in many places supplanting the less 
 subtle agent, while it is lighting the world 
 as well as, through the telegraph and cable, 
 knitting together the remotest corners of the 
 earth. The invention of the telephone, the 
 phonograph, the spectroscope, and pneumatic 
 tube has occurred since 1850. Moreover, 
 it is safe to say that never before have so 
 many trained intellects been engaged in in- 
 vention as to-day. Philosophers and scien- 
 tists also are engaged on mighty problems 
 which promise for humanity still more daz- 
 zling victories, among which perhaps the 
 knowledge which it is believed will come from 
 the understanding of the vibratory laws, the 
 study of which is engrossing the attention of 
 so many thinking minds, suggests results the 
 
OF MODERN TIMES. 293 
 
 most far-reaching. In the earlier century 
 books were printed and the first modern 
 newspaper was published (issued in Venice, 
 1536). To-day we see the fruitage of the 
 invention of Gutenberg in the iflyriads of 
 volumes that place knowledge within the 
 reach of the humblest ; and the daily paper, 
 no longer the luxury of the rich, is read by 
 miUions. Colet, in the century of More, 
 laid the foundation for popular, humane 
 and rational education in establishing St. 
 Paul's Latin-grammar school, an idea which 
 has grown and expanded into the peerless 
 democratic school-system of our nation. 
 And so, in numerous other ways, we might 
 trace the results of ideals held by the loftier 
 souls of the earlier century, no less than 
 the wonderful kinship in ideas which con- 
 nect the century of Sir Thomas More and 
 the century whose magnificent meridian we 
 are now approaching. 
 
 THE END. 
 
AUTHORITIES CONSULTED. 
 
 In this work, whenever direct quotations have been 
 made, I have endeavored to give the authorities either 
 in the text or in footnotes. Tlie preparation of the 
 volume has required the careful reading of several 
 thousand pages of matter, and it is my desire to credit 
 the authorities to whom I am indebted for information 
 touching the history, the events and the leading lives 
 of the wonderful century which I have tried to briefly 
 outline in so far as it related to Western Europe. 
 
 Among the works consulted I desire to mention Green's 
 " History of the English People," Hume's "History of 
 England," Froude's " Histoiy of England," Froude's 
 "Life and Letters of Erasmus," Roper's "Life of Sir 
 Thomas More," Maurice Adams' " Sketcli of Sir Thomas 
 More," Victor Duruy's " History of Modern Times," 
 Guizot's "History of France," John Addington Sy- 
 monds' seven volumes relating to the "Italy of the Re- 
 naissance, " and Ms admirable " Life of Michael Angelo 
 Buonarroti." Also the biographies of Michael Angelo 
 Buonarroti, by Charles Clement ; Leonardo Da Vinci, 
 by Dr. J. Paul Richter ; Correggio, by M. C. Heaton ; 
 Raphael, by N. D" An vers ; Titian, byR. F. Heath, M. A.; 
 F. M. Sweetser's "Illustrated Biographies of the Great 
 Artists," and Clements R. Markham's " History of Peru." 
 
 I have in all cases carefully examined the papers relat- 
 ing to the principal events and personages of this century 
 in the last edition of the Encyclopeedia Britannioa, as 
 these contributions are on the whole scholarly, concise 
 and impartial. Among the articles that have been of 
 special value in the preparation of this work are those 
 dealing with the Reformation, the Medici, Savonarola, 
 Luther, Calvin, and Sir Thomas More. 
 
 Among many other works which have been perused, I 
 would mention Castelar's "Old Rome and New Italy," 
 Castelar's "Life of Columbus," and Irving's "Fall of 
 Granada." 
 
 My aim in preparing this book has been, as far as pos- 
 sible, by comparison of authorities and careful examina- 
 tion of the various aspects of the age, to arrive at the 
 truth, and to state the same impartially and in as brief 
 a manner as it could be done, in order to convey to the 
 mind of the busy reader an intelligent idea of a century 
 which up to that period had no jjeer. 
 
Gerald Massey : 
 
 Poet, 
 
 Prophet, and 
 Mystic. 
 
 Biatbtt^^to ^ J2'2<^ of the life and thought of 
 
 '^'^'"" England's Poet of the People. 
 
 BY B. O. KIvO^?VE:R. 
 
 Illustrated by Laura Lee. 
 
 CRITICAL FBESS OPINIONS. 
 
 Mr. B. O. Flower's latest work is a scholarly discussion of the 
 life and work of Massey, poet, prophet, and mystic. One of the 
 feature chapters is that in which the author traces the points of 
 resemblance between Massey and Whittier. There are frequent 
 quotations from the poet, but they are none too frequent, since they 
 reveal to us the inner life of the man. — Daily Advertiser^ Boston, 
 Mass. 
 
 A most appreciative and tender tribute to one of England's lesser 
 but noble song writers. No such presentation of the poet's charac- 
 ter and work has yet been seen on this side the water. — Daily 
 Traveler, Boston, Mass. 
 
 A handsome volume, both in print and illustrations, which presents 
 briefly, but pointedly, the life and work of Gerald Massey. Our 
 author finds a striking resemblance between Massey and our own 
 loved Quaker poet, Whittier. Both were tireless reformers, "pas" 
 sionately in love with the beauty in common life." Both hated 
 injustice with all their powers of mind, with prophetic and intuitive 
 insight as to coming events. They both " revealed beauties within 
 and without the homes of the humble," and were fearless in denun- 
 ciation of wrong-doing. The work is handsomely illustrated, but 
 the text alone makes it an interesting and even charming book. Mr- 
 Flower makes free quotations from the gems of many of Massey's 
 inspiring songs, and brings out admirably the leading traits of 
 character that shaped his life and inspired his writing. — Daily 
 Inter-Ocean, Chicago, III. 
 
 Price, extra cloth, gilt side and back dies, $1.00. 
 
 Arena Publishing Co., - Boston, Mass. 
 
Civilization's Inferno 
 
 OR, 
 
 Studies in the Social Cellar. 
 
 By B. O, FLOWER, 
 
 This work contains vivid pen pictures of the social cellar as Mr. 
 Flower found it, and is one of the most fearless and able presenta- 
 tions of the condition of society's exiles which has ever been made. 
 
 It carries the reader into the social cellar where uninvited poverty 
 abounds, and from there into the sub-cellar, or the world of the 
 criminal poor. 
 
 It is rich in suggestive hints, and should be in the hands of every 
 thoughtful man and woman in America. 
 
 Absorbingly interesting and at times thrilling, no one can read its 
 pages without being made better for the perusal. 
 
 CRITICAL OPINION FROM REPRESENTATIVE AMERICAN 
 JOURNALS. 
 
 It is a truthful and graphic delineation of the condition of the people in tlie social 
 undertow. Mr. Flower has a keen and profound sympathy with the difficulties that 
 the poor are laboring underi and he describes what he has seen with his own eyes in 
 terms that chill one's blood. He does not hesitate to call things by their right 
 names, and points out the magnitude of the peril, showing that no palliative meas- 
 urts will satisfy the people. — Daily Herald^ Boston^ Mass. 
 
 Society, as it is now constituted, is nothing less than a sleeping volcano. Who 
 dares to say how soon the upheaval will come, or whether it can be evaded by the 
 adoption of prompt measures of relief? Certainly the condition of the lower social 
 strata calls for immediate action on the part of those whose safety is at stake. Mr. 
 Flower has accomplished a ^reat work in setting forth the exact truth of the matter, 
 without any effort at palliation. It will be well, indeed, for the prosperous classes 
 of the community if they are warned in time. — Boston Beacojt, Boston, Mass. 
 
 A thoughtful work by a thoughtful man, and should turn the minds of many who 
 are now ignorant or careless to the condition of the countless thousands who live in 
 the "social cellar." No one can read the book without feeling that the author's 
 diagnosis of the case is true and gives each one his own personal responsibility. — 
 Cmirier-Journal^ Louisville^ Ky. 
 
 What General Booth has done for London, and Mr. Jacob Riis for New York, 
 Mr. Flower has done for cultured Boston. He is a professional man of letters, 
 and tells his story with the skill and knack of his craft. — Daily Constitution., 
 Atlanta, Ga. 
 
 Cloth, ifill.OO. Paper, 50 cents. 
 
 Arena Publishing Co., - Boston, Mass. 
 
The New Time. 
 
 *t^ tk^ A Plea for the Union of tlie Moral 
 'l^Ks^^tl' Forces for Practical Progress. 
 
 By B. O. FLOWER. 
 
 A worthy companion to " Civilisation's Inferno." Constructive in 
 character and abounding in helpful suggestions. 
 
 Critical PresB Opinions. 
 
 It is a fervent plea for the union and practical cooperation of all 
 those who are interested in the welfare of humanity, and who believe 
 that it is their duty to do their utmost toward alleviating the suffer- 
 ings of their less fortunate fellow mortals. Mr. Flower is a firm 
 believer in the ultimate triumph of the spirit of fraternity and justice, 
 and in this little book he suggests how this spirit may be fostered 
 throughout the United States. There are many loving souls, he 
 claims, in every city, town, and village, who would fain spend most 
 of their lives in aiding their fellows, and he maintains that a won- 
 drous amount of good would be the result if only these scattered 
 children of light could be properly organized. Undoubtedly he is 
 right, and it would not surprise us if this idea took root. We may 
 not all possess Mr. Flower's enthusiasm, but we must all admire the 
 eloquence with which he pictures the " new time " for which he 
 yearns, — the time when. all men will be brothers and justice will 
 rule the earth. — Neio York Daily Herald, New York, N. Y. 
 
 It has a pertinence and value for all who have read and thought 
 about the social problems of our day; and the information which 
 the author puts into such a moderate compass will also serve admir- 
 ably to interest many in social literature who have been deterred by 
 rumor from touching these "fantastic theories." " It is facts, facts, 
 facts, which 'The New Time' marshals before the reader, — facts 
 of the every-day, commonplace, humdrum life about us." The reader 
 will find in this book much food for solid, hard thinking. Here are 
 put into a small compass a body of concrete remedial measures for 
 an immediate and practical organization of social reform agencies. 
 It shows how existing evils can be modified, and gives the trend of 
 contemporary social thought and its evolutionary process toward its 
 ultimate goal of the highest social good. — ■ Boston Home Journal, 
 Boston, Mass. 
 
 Extra cloth, gilt back and side dies, $1.00. Taper, 35 cents. 
 
 Arena Publishing Co., - Boston, Mass. 
 
Persons, Places and Ideas. 
 
 By B. O. FLOWER. 
 
 A Superb Preeentation Volume. Magnificently illuBtrated, fpitli 
 
 over tliirty full-page half-tone pictureB, and numerous 
 
 smaller illustrations. 
 
 Edition lifnited to one thoJisand copies. Printed on heavy J>late paper. 
 The following is a partial table of contents : 
 
 Charles Darwin : A Character Sketch. With full-page portrait of the great 
 
 scientist. 
 An Idealistic Dreamer, Who Sings in a flinor Key, With full-page portrait 
 
 of Louise Chandler Moulton. 
 flask or Hirror. A discussion of the difference between Artificiality an4 Veri" 
 
 tism on the Stage. With four illustrations. 
 A Poet of the People. With full-page portrait of James G. Clark. 
 After Sixty Years. 
 
 Chester=on=the=Dee. With full-page illustrations. 
 Strolls Outside the Walls of Chester. With full-page illustrations. 
 Winter Days in Florida. With full-page illustrations. 
 Religious Ideals of Colonial Days as nirrored in Poetry and Song. 
 Room for the Soul of Man. 
 Crucial Homents in National Life. 
 The August Present. 
 
 Of this notable work, Lillian Whiting, the well-known Boston critic, journalist, and 
 essayist, writes : _ , 
 
 "Typographically, Persons, Places, and Ideas is a dream of beauty, and in its 
 vitality of thought, its nobility of purpose, its wide range, it is a book singularly cal- 
 culated to enrich and exalt life." 
 
 '* A large and elepantly printed volume made up of sixteen essays and descriptive 
 sketches, by B. O. Flower, the edit'ir of the Arena. Mr. Flower is known as one 
 of the most earnest and assiduous of our literary laborers, and some of the best of 
 his work is included in the present volume. It is printed on heavy .plate paper; 
 bound in buckiam, with gilt top and deckel edges. — Boston Transcript^ Boston, 
 Mass. 
 
 An admirable presentation volume. It is divided into three parts, the first and 
 second containing carefully prepared and fascinating biographical sketches of emi- 
 nent persons and chapters descriptive of historical and picturesque haunts; the 
 third being devoted to essays which in their thoroughly optimistic tone will be found 
 most helpful and elevating. The volume is profusely illustrated." — Boston Daily 
 Advertiser, Boston, Mass. 
 
 Magnificently bound in fancy cloth, elaborate gilt side anil back, 
 ^vith gilt top, uncut edges. Price, $3.00. 
 
 AREKA F»UBI^ISHING CO 
 
 BOSTON, MASS, 
 

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