tihxaxy of Che Cheolojical ^tmimxy 
 
 PRINCETON • NEW JERSEY 
 
 •3^^S« 
 
 BR 155 .C53 1889 i 
 
 Clarke, James Freeman, 1810 
 
 1888. 
 Events and epochs in 
 
 reliaious historv 
 
^ 
 
EVENTS AND EPOCHS IN 
 RELIGIOUS HISTORY. 
 
Metrical Scale- 
 
 Gkouni» Plan of the Cemetery of Callixtus. 
 
EVENTS AND EPOCHS IN 
 RELIGIOUS HISTORY: 
 
 BEING THE SUBSTANCE OF 
 
 a Course of Ciuellie lecturer 
 
 DELIVERED IN THE LOWELL INSTITUTE, 
 BOSTON, IN 1880, 
 
 BY 
 
 u^ 
 
 JAMES FREEMAN CLARKE, 
 
 AUTHOR OF "TEN GREAT RELIGIONS," "COMMON SENSE IN KEI.IGION." "STEPS 
 
 OF BELIEF," "TRUTHS AND ERRORS OF ORTHODOXY," "SELF-CULTURE," 
 
 "EXOTICS," "THOMAS DIDYMUS," " EVERY-DAY RELIGION," ETC. 
 
 Out of these convertites 
 There is much matter to be heard and learned. 
 
 Jacques, in ^' As Vou Like It.'''' 
 
 FOURTH EDITION. 
 
 BOSTON AND NEW YORK : 
 HOUGHTON, ^^FFLIN AND COMPANY. 
 
 1889. 
 
Copyright, 1881, 
 By James R. Osgood and Company. 
 
 All rights reserved. 
 
TO 
 
 WILLIAM GREENLEAF ELIOT, 
 
 COMPANION OF THEOLOGICAL STUDY IN YOUTH ; 
 
 FELLOW- WORKER IN CHRISTIAN LABORS 
 
 IN EARLY MANHOOD; 
 
 AND FRIEND IN ALL THE EXPERIENCES OF LIFE, — 
 
 IS LOVINGLY DEDICATED. 
 
NOTE. 
 
 This book is composed of a course of lectures given by 
 the author in the Lowell Institute, Boston, in January, 
 1880. By the permission of the Trustee they are here 
 pul)lishe(l, but with some additions and alterations. 
 
 There is nothing more interesting to us than the relig- 
 ious experiences of those great souls who have helped to 
 lead the human race up nearer to God. This collection of 
 sketches may inspire in some persons the wish to make 
 a more serious study of the lives and events of which 
 little more than an outline could be given in the present 
 
 work. 
 
 J. F. C. 
 
 NoVFMnF.B, 1881. 
 
 \ 
 
 \ 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 I. 
 
 THE CATACOMBS. 
 
 Page 
 
 § 1. Introduction. Outline of the Lectures 1 
 
 2. What are the Catacombs ? 4 
 
 3. First period. The Catacombs as Cemeteries .... 6 
 
 4. Second period. The Catacombs in the age of Martyr- 
 
 dom ; as retreats from persecution, and as places of 
 
 worship 11 
 
 THE CATACOMBS. 
 
 § 1. Third period of the Catacombs. The Catacombs as 
 
 sacred phices 18 
 
 2. Monograms and Pictures in the Catacombs .... 21 
 
 3. Epigraphs and Inscriptions in the Catacombs .... 27 
 
 4. Belief of the early Christians as deduced from the 
 
 Catacombs 38 
 
 III. 
 
 THE BUDDHIST MONKS OF CENTRAL ASIA. 
 
 § 1. Sakya-Muni and his religious system 46 
 
 2. Father Hue's description of the monasteries in Tartary 
 
 and Thibet . . 50 
 
X ' CONTENTS. 
 
 3. Resemblances between the Buddhist and Roman Catho- 
 
 lic rituals 58 
 
 4. Inscriptions of King Asoka, 276 B.C. Their high moral 
 
 tone 61 
 
 5. Buddhist Monastic Life in Ceylon, Burmah, China, etc. 63 
 
 6. Buddhist Architecture. Rock-cut Temples and Mon- 
 
 asteries 67 
 
 7. Spirit of Buddhism. Its Merits and Defects. Its sup- 
 
 posed denial of God and Immortality 75 
 
 IV. 
 
 THE CHRISTIAN MONKS AND MONASTIC LIFE. 
 
 § 1. Original Christianity not Monastic 82 
 
 2. Beginning of Christian Monasticism. The Anchorites. 84 
 
 3. The Anchorites take the place of the Martyrs .... 86 
 
 4. The Monks collected into Communities 88 
 
 5. Monasticism among the Brahmans in India, 800 B.C. 89 
 
 6. The Monks in Convents. St. Benedict and his Rule. 92 
 
 7. The Mendicant Orders. St. Dominic and St. Francis. 98 
 
 8. The Monastic tendency in Protestantism 112 
 
 9. The Lessons of Monasticism 117 
 
 V. 
 
 AUGUSTINE, ANSELM, BERNARD, AND THEIR TIMES. 
 
 § 1. Introduction 123 
 
 2. The Life of Augustine, as described in his "Confessions." 123 
 
 3. His Longing for Truth. Influence of Cicero. Mani- 
 
 cheism 127 
 
 4. His conversion. Influence of Plato 131 
 
 5. The Doctrine of Augustine 136 
 
 6. The times of Augustine. Character and permanence of 
 
 his Influence 139 
 
 7. Anselm. Character of the Eleventh Century .... 142 
 
 8. Anselm's Religious Meditations and Prayers. His Work 
 
 and Study in the Convent 146 
 
CONTENTS. Xi 
 
 9. Anselm as Archbishop of Canterbury. His Conflict 
 
 with the King. Exile and Return 149 
 
 10. Ansehn as Metaphysician and Tlieologian 151 
 
 11. St. Bernard. Feudalism. Bernard joins the Cistercian 
 
 Monks and founds the Abbey of Clairvaux. His 
 Austerities and Miracles 157 
 
 12. Bernard rebukes Kings, Popes, and Prelates, and settles 
 
 by his authority disputes in tlie Church and State . . IGO 
 
 13. He preaches the Second Crusade; opposes the persecu- 
 
 tion of the Jews; admonishes the Pope of his duties . 164 
 
 14. Augustine, Anselm, and Bernard the Property of the 
 
 whole Chui'ch, Catholic and Protestant 165 
 
 VI. 
 
 JEANNE d'aRC. 
 
 § 1. Sources of Information concerning her. State of France 
 
 when she appeared 167 
 
 2. Her Early Life and her Visions 170 
 
 3. She departs on her Mission to deliver France when 
 
 Seventeen Years Old 175 
 
 4. Being accepted by the King, she raises the siege of 
 
 Orleans 179 
 
 5. Further Campaigns and Victories. The King Crowned 
 
 at Reims 184 
 
 6. She is taken prisoner by the Burgundians, and sold to 
 
 the English 190 
 
 7. Trial, Condemnation, Execution, Rehabilitation . . . 192 
 
 VII. 
 
 SAVONAROLA AND THE RENAISSANCE. 
 
 § 1. Changes in Europe from the time of Jeanne D'Arc to 
 
 that of Savonarola. The Renaissance 213 
 
 2. Early Life of Savonarola. His Preaching in Florence . 221 
 
XU CONTENTS. 
 
 3. Invasion of Italy by Charles VIII. Savonarola's services 
 
 to the City 226 
 
 4. Opposition to Savonarola. The Pope forbids him to 
 
 Preach 230 
 
 5. The Ordeal. Savonarola seized and imprisoned . . . 233 
 
 6. The Death and Character of Savonarola 234 
 
 VIII. 
 
 LUTHER AND THE REFORMATION. LOYOLA AND THE JESUITS. 
 
 § 1. Introduction. Early Life of Luther 241 
 
 2. Luther at Wittenberg. His doctrine of Justification . 244 
 
 3. Luther opposes the Sale of Indulgences. He appears 
 
 before the Diet of Worms 246 
 
 4. Results of his Labors. The Protestant Reformation a 
 
 necessity and a blessing 252 
 
 5. Character of Luther. Extracts from his Writings and 
 
 Conversation 256 
 
 6. Early Life and Conversion of Loyola 262 
 
 7. The " Society of Jesus." Its history and character . . 265 
 
 8. Work of Luther and Loyola compared. Results of 
 
 both " 271 
 
 IX. 
 
 THE MYSTICS IN ALL RELIGIONS. 
 
 § 1. Wide spread of Mysticism. Its definition. Mysticism 
 
 in India and Persia 275 
 
 2. The New Platonists. The Scholastic Mystics. German 
 
 Mystics in the Fourteenth Century. Jacob Boehme . 278 
 
 3. Fenelon and Madame Guion. The Thaumaturgists. 
 
 Swedenborg . . 282 
 
 4. American Mystics. Ralph Waldo Emerson. Jones 
 
 Very. Conclusion 291 
 
CONTENTS. Xiii 
 
 X. 
 
 GEORGE FOX AND THE QUAKERS. 
 
 § 1. The Quaker movement a remarkable one, having in it 
 
 the Seed of many Modern Reforms 299 
 
 2. George Fox, the Founder of Quakerism. His Experiences 301 
 
 3. He goes forth teacliing the doctrine of the Universal 
 
 Inner Light 309 
 
 4. His Sufferings and Persecutions 312 
 
 5. Character of Fox. Source of his Influence .... 317 
 
 6. Doctrines of Quakerism, as developed by Barclay and 
 
 Tenn 319 
 
 7. Subsequent history. Followers of Fox. Testimony of 
 
 Moehler, Bancroft, Charles Lamb, Frederick Maurice, 
 and Whittier 321 
 
 XL 
 
 THE HUGUENOTS. 
 
 § 1. Protestantism in France until the Revocation of the 
 
 Edict of Nantes 326 
 
 2. Revocation of the Edict of Nantes, and persecution of 
 
 the Protestants 329 
 
 3. Protestantism in the South of France. The Albigenses in 
 
 the Thirteenth Century. The War of the Camisards 335 
 
 4. The C;ise of Calas in 17G2 343 
 
 5. Descendants of Huguenots in England and America . 345 
 
 XIL 
 
 JOHN WESLEY AND HIS TIMES. 
 
 § 1. Early Life of Wesley. His Parents. Oxford. ... 351 
 
 2. Goes to America. The Moravians. His new view of 
 
 Faith 356 
 
 3. The Parting of the Ways. His New System .... 361 
 
XIV CONTENTS. 
 
 4. Influence of his Preaching. The New Methods. Field- 
 
 preaching. Lay-preaching. Itinerancy. Class-meet- 
 ings 364 
 
 5. Opposition to Methodism. Persecution of the Preachers 375 
 
 6. Great Influence of Wesley. Spread of Methodism. 
 
 Benefit of this Reform 377 
 
 7. Wesley's Conversion from Ritualism the Turning-point 
 
 in his whole Career 380 
 
 8. Methodist Hymns. Conclusion . 384 
 
DESCRIPTION OF THE PLATES. 
 
 Pago 
 Plate T. — Ground Plan of the Cemetery of 
 
 St. Calixtus Frontispiece. 
 
 This plate is taken by the heliotype process from one in the " Roma 
 SotttTunea " of Nortiicote and Brownlow (London, 1879). This 
 hirge underground cemetery is composed of several groups of 
 excavations. The entrance is on the Appian Way, about two 
 miles from Rome, on the road to Albano. The cemetery was 
 discovered by De Rossi about the year 1849, and De Rossi's ex- 
 plorations and surveys have given us our knowledge of the dif- 
 ferent parts of these extensive subterranean catacombs. The 
 different cemeteries are distinguished in this plan by different 
 shades of color. Area I. is the crypt of Lucina, and had a front- 
 age of one hundred feet on the Appian Way, extending backward 
 {in (iijro) two Innidrcd and thirty feet. This crypt derives its 
 name from a statement in the ecclesiastical records that the 
 ground above was tlie property of a Christian Koman lady called 
 Lucina. The tomb of Pope Cornelius, of the third century, was 
 here. This cemetery was constructed on three planes, or floors, 
 one above another. The passages in the upper ])i(ino, or plane, 
 are made darker than those below. It will be noticed that the 
 white passages run below the darker ones. The blackest lines 
 indicate masonr.v above or below ground. Two chapels, built 
 above the cemeteries, are also marked on the plan, — one a three- 
 apsed chapel of St. Sixtus, the otlier of St. Soteris. The funeral 
 chambers are seen on each side of the passages. The small 
 squares, white inside, mark the hnninaria, or openings for light. 
 Thoutfh the whole of the cemetery bears the name of Calixtus, 
 the different areas were probal)ly quite distin(;t, and belong to dif- 
 ferent periods. Area I. (the crypt of Lucina) dates back to the 
 second and third century. Area II. is without a name, and is of 
 about the same period. Area III. is the cemetery of Calixtus and 
 St. Cecilia, and her name on the plan sliows the s])ot where her 
 body was found. Arens IV., V., and VI. bi'long to the same 
 cemetery, but were added afterward. Areas VII., VIII., and IX. 
 
XVI DESCEIPTION OF THE PLATES. 
 
 are parts of the cemetery of St. Soteris, of the third and fourth 
 century. The other areas are later. The larger, irregular passa- 
 ges seen in different parts of the plan are the arenaria, or sand- 
 pits, which communicated with the catacombs, and in times of 
 persecution gave an opportunity of escape. Most of these passa- 
 ges and chambers are excavated from the living rock. The 
 lowest piano is, in some parts, forty feet below the surface. 
 
 Plate II. — The Catacombs . . ..... .19 
 
 Fig. 1. This is a restoration, by De Rossi, of the Papal crypt m 
 the cemetery of St. Calixtus, which, when discovered, was in 
 ruins. The great antiquarian knowledge of De Rossi has enabled 
 him to restore it in this sketch with probable accuracy. We see 
 the place of the altar, with the Bishop's chair of stone behind ; 
 both surrounded by a balustrade of marble, partly solid, partly of 
 pierced lattice-work, and terminated at one end by a Hermes 
 with a female head. Fragments of these stones were found 
 among the rubbish. The graves on the sides of the crypt have 
 the names of the popes supposed to have been buried here. Some 
 of these inscribed stones were found in fragments on the floor of 
 the crypt, and fac-similes of the inscriptions upon them are given 
 by Northcote, and bear the names of four or five of the bishops 
 of Rome of the third century. The authenticity of these relics 
 has been doubted, but it is not improbable that this crypt con- 
 tained the bodies of several of the early popes. It will be found 
 on the Plan of the Cemetery (Plate I.), in Area III., marked L, 
 near the crypt of St. Cecilia. The stairs on the plan, which now 
 lead down to it from above, were probably built by Pope Damasus 
 in the fourth century. 
 
 Fig. 2. This represents a church discovered in 1854, and disinterred 
 by De Rossi in 1873. It was built, as is believed, by the suc- 
 cessor of Pope Damasus, in the catacomb of Domitilla, in honor 
 of the two martyrs Nereus and Achilleus, and of Petronilla. 
 Domitilla was a near relative of the Emperor Domitian, proba- 
 bly his cousin, and niece of Vespasian, and was a member, there- 
 fore, of the great Flavian family. She was banished, for being a 
 Christian, to the island of Ponza, near Ischia. This fact is men- 
 tioned by Dio Cassius and Eusebius, and tradition describes the 
 cemetery of Domitilla as being below a farm which belonged to 
 this noble Roman matron, and adds that her chamberlains Nereus 
 and Achilleus, martyrs for their Christian faith, were buried in 
 this place. This church, erected over the remains of these mar- 
 tyrs, was a large Basilica, about one hundred feet by sixty, and 
 its roof must have appeared above-ground, while its foundations 
 were on the second plane of the catacomb. It had a nave and 
 two side-aisles, the latter separated from the nave by four col- 
 umns, of wliich the bases may be seen in the plan. A fragment 
 
DESCKIITION OF THE PLATES. XVll 
 
 of stone contained an inscription to tlie memory of the two ser- 
 vants of Domitilla ; and bc'liind the apse was a small chamber 
 with a picture of Petronilhi, an early C.'liristian martyr and mem- 
 ber of the great Aurelian family. There is a homily in the works 
 of Gregory the Great "dt-livered before the tombs of SS. Nereiis 
 and Achilleus," and which may therefore have been preached in 
 this very church. 
 
 Plate III. — The Catacombs 22 
 
 Fig. 1. This illustration is of one of the walls of a Cubiculum orna- 
 mented with fresco paintings. The upper group in the centre 
 represents the seven discij)les parUiking of the fishes, as described 
 in the last chapter of the Fourth Gospel. The seven baskets are 
 supposed to contain the fishes, and the two rings above them are 
 the bread. This feast by the Lake of Tiberias was a favorite 
 subject, and is believed by Northcote, following ancient writers, 
 to denote the Eucharist. But how can bread and fish represent 
 bread and wine ? And how can seven disciples represent twelve? 
 The symbolical meaning of this picture was probably the spiritual 
 nourishment given by Christ to the soul. On the right are repre- 
 sented Abraham and Isaac, with the ram and fagot of wood for 
 the sacrifice. Abraliam and Isaac are in the attitude of grateful 
 homage for deliverance. On tlie other side, with a tripod support- 
 ing food between them, are two figures, — one blessing the bread, 
 the other returning thanks. Below, one figure represents the 
 paralytic man carrying his bed ; another, in the middle, indicates 
 the baptism of a believer. The figure catching the fish shows 
 the conversion of a soul ; and that on the left is of Moses striking 
 the rock. Jonah — umler the shadow of the gourd, being cast 
 out to the fish, and being restored again — was a favorite type of 
 trial and deliverance. All these figures appear repeatedly on the 
 walls. 
 
 Fig. 2 represents a cubiculum, or small chamber, as most of them 
 looked wlien discovered. The graves had been opened, and the 
 bodies taken away, — probably for relics to be distributed through 
 the churches. 
 
 Plate IV. — The Catacombs 40 
 
 These two figures are reproduced from the photographs of Mr. Par- 
 ker in his works on the " Roman Tombs " and " Tlie Catacombs." 
 
 Fig. 1 represents two sarcophagi found in the crypt of St. Peter, 
 and now in the Lateran Museum. In tlie upper portion, the group 
 on the left shows the sacrifice of Abraham ; that on the right is 
 Pilate washing his hands. In the middle division is Christ with 
 l*eter and ]'aul on each side, to one of whom he is giving a roll. 
 The figure below the feet of Jesus, holding a veil over her head, 
 
XVIU DESCRIPTION OF THE PLATES. 
 
 is said by Northcote to signify the vault of Heaven ; by others to 
 mean Tellus, or the Earth. The slab below shows, in the middle, 
 Jesus as the Good Shepherd, carrying a lamb on his shoulders. 
 This figure is repeated on each side. The rest of the space is 
 filled with the vine, and children gathering grapes, milking a goat, 
 and treading the grapes in a wine-press. Some of the children 
 have wings, signifying their angelic character. The whole indi- 
 cates the cheerful type of early Christianity. This sarcophagus 
 belongs to the period of Constantine. 
 Fig. 2 shows us in the upper part a group of figures. On the left 
 are Adam and Eve being expelled from Paradise. The small 
 figures are those who are healed by Jesus, one carrying his bed, 
 one having his eyes cured. Peter is indicated by the cock; and, 
 in all these situations Jesus is shown as a youth without a beard 
 and witli a cheerful expression of countenance. Below, we have 
 a carved slab, divided into five compartments by twisted Corin- 
 thian pillars. In the central division is the labarum, or military 
 standard adopted by Constantine. It is a cross with a wreath 
 above it including the Christian monogram, with doves pecking 
 at the crown, and two soldiers watching below. On the right is 
 Jesus making a good confession before Pilate. On the other side 
 Jesus is carrying his cross, and a soldier placing a crown over his 
 head. 
 
 Plate V. -—Buddhist Rock-cut Temples. (Fergusson) . 46 
 
 Fig. 1 is a general view of the caves at Ajunta, showing how they 
 
 are excavated on the side of a hill, where a stratum of rock of 
 
 suflicient thickness crops out. 
 Fig. 2 shows a Buddhist Vihara, or Monastery, excavated in the 
 
 solid rock. Tills is numbered 17 hy Fergusson. The figure of 
 
 Buddha appears in the interior hall. 
 
 Plate VI. — Buddhist Rock-cut Temples 50 
 
 A view of the Lanka, at Ellora. There are thirty excavations at 
 Ellora, of which ten are the work of the Buddhists and fourteen 
 of the Brahmans, and the other six vary from both. This indi- 
 cates the period when these religions existed together in peace, 
 before the religious wars which ended in the expulsion of the 
 Buddhists from India. 
 
 Plate VII. — Buddhist Rock-cut Temples ..... 62 
 
 This plate shows the exterior and interior of a Chaitya, or church- 
 cave, at Ajunta, on the western side of Central India, near Surat. 
 This is one of the most beautiful of all the temple-caves. Like 
 the others, it is a monolith. 
 
DESCRIPTION OF THE PLATES. XIX 
 
 Plate VIII. — Buddhist Rock-cut Templks 68 
 
 Fi^. 1 is a reproduction of tlie j^reat cave-temple at Karli, exca- 
 vated B. C. 1G3. It is one of the largest, and is described in the 
 text. 
 
 Fig. 2 is called tho Kylas, a highly ornamented temple at Kllora. 
 This splendid temple is supposed to be the work of the Brahmans. 
 
 Plate IX. — Buddhist Temples 72 
 
 This is the ground-plan of a Buddhist monastery at Ajunta, and is 
 described in the text. 
 
 Plate X. — Christian Monasteries 97 
 
 Ground ])lan of the Abbey of Clairvaux, founded by St. Bernard. 
 This, and the other illustrations of the Christian monasteries, are 
 taken from the " Dictiomiaire Kaisomic' de L'Architecture Fran- 
 vaise du XP au XVI^' Sietle," par VioUet-le-Duc. Paris, 1858. 
 This plate is explained in the text. 
 
 Plate XI. — Christian Monasteries 99 
 
 Abbey of Citeaux, head monastery of the Cistercians. See text for 
 the description. 
 
 Plate XII. — Christian Monasteries 103 
 
 Monastery of the Augustines, near Brussels. Described in the text. 
 
 Plate XIII. — Christian Monasteries 105 
 
 Abbey of St. Allyre in Auvergne. An example of a fortified mon- 
 astery. Described in the text. 
 
 Plate XIV. — Christian Monasteries 107 
 
 The Chartreuse of Clermont. Described in the text. 
 
 Plate XV. — Jeanne d'Arc 1G9 
 
 Fig. 1. The home of Jeanne d'Arc at Domremy. Taken from the 
 illustrated edition of her life by II. Wallon. Paris. 187(). This 
 gives the building as it existed, unchanged, in 1819. Here, in 
 the garden, by the side of the church, Jeanne heard her Voices 
 speaking to her when she was thirteen years old. 
 
 Fig. 2 represents the Church at Provins in its actual state. On the 
 left is the Great Tower, a curious fortress of the thirteenth cen- 
 tury. At the right is the church of St. Quiriacus, built in the 
 twelfth and thirteenth centuries. The King and Jeanne heard 
 mass in this church. Provins is sixty miles southwest of Paris. 
 
XX DESCRIPTION OF THE PLATES. 
 
 Plate XVI. — Jeanne d'Arc 181 
 
 This is a map of the region around Orleans, showing the campaign 
 conducted by the heroine. 
 
 Plate XVII. — Jeanne d'Arc 189 
 
 Letter of Jeanne to the inhabitants of Riom, Nov. 9, 1429. 
 Described in the text. 
 
 Plate XVIII. — Jeanne d'Arc 201 
 
 Cemetery of the Church of St. Ouen at Rouen. 
 
 Plate XIX. — Jeanne d'Arc 204 
 
 Fac-simile of the official record of Jeanne's last answers, in which 
 she retracts her abjuration. 
 
 Plate XX. — Savonarola 222 
 
 Fig. 1 is a portrait of the Friar from a bronze medal in the Gallery 
 at Florence, engraved for the " Life of Savonarola," by Pasquale 
 Villari, whicli was translated into English by Leonard Horner ; 
 London, 1863. This portrait was probably executed when he 
 was older tlian at the period indicated in the other. 
 
 Fig. 2 is a portrait of Savonarola, from the " Life and Martyrdom 
 of Savonarola," by R. R. Madden ; London, 1854. It is from a 
 gem engraved by Giovanni delle Corniole, — so called because 
 many of liis best works were executed in carnelian. This gem 
 is in the Royal Gallery at Florence. It is considered the best 
 likeness of Savonarola extant. 
 
EVENTS AND EPOCHS IN RELIGIOUS 
 
 HISTORY. 
 
 THE CATACOMBS. 
 
 § 1. Introduction. Outline of the Lectures. — Those Avho 
 have attended previous courses of the Lowell Lectures this 
 winter have listened to the interestinj^ accounts, by accom- 
 plished scientists, of the changes, revolutions, sudden catas- 
 trophes, or gentle secular processes, by which the globe on 
 which we live has reached its present condition. They 
 have been told of the dark subterranean movements which 
 have lifted continents above the surface of the ocean, of 
 long periods in which new strata have been deposited 
 over immense regions, of sudden outpourings of terrestial 
 fire in one epoch, of vast accumulations of glacial ice in 
 another. But there is another world in which analogous 
 changes have taken place, and that is the world of human 
 thought and action. Here also there have been long peri- 
 ods of slow development, followed by sudden catastrophes. 
 Here, too, there have been subterranean movements, work- 
 ing silently during many centuries, which have finally 
 lifted to the light and air new forms of civilization. Dur- 
 ing some periods of human history the mind of man has 
 seemed gradually to freeze in routine, through a long gla- 
 cial epoch of dead forms and empty repetitions ; and then 
 has come a fiery outbreak of new conviction, of living i'aitli, 
 melting in a brief period all these icy customs, and pre- 
 
2 EVENTS AND EPOCHS IN RELIGIOUS HISTORY. 
 
 paring the way for a new earth, more green and fair than 
 ever before. Of some of these critical periods I propose 
 to speak in this course of lectures. 
 
 I have chosen as the title for these lectures, "Events 
 and Epochs in Eeligious History." This title suits my 
 design, because under it I can include some of the most 
 striking and curious persons and movements, not only 
 within Christian history, but outside of it. My purpose is 
 to call your attention to certain points of paramount inter- 
 est in the history of religion. I shall speak of the Chris- 
 tian church in its humble beginnings, and of the curious 
 phenomena of monastic institutions, first appearing in Ethnic 
 religions, and afterward reappearing in Christianity. I shall 
 say something of the great thinkers, and heroes of faith, 
 around whose lives, as on an axis, the history of human 
 life has turned, and who have sometimes directed the main 
 currents of human thought through many centuries. The 
 tendency of scientific study in our time has perhaps led us 
 to undervalue the influence of such great souls. History 
 has been believed to advance according to definite laws, 
 over which neither human genius nor human freedom has 
 exerted any appreciable influence. But even Mr. Buckle, 
 while attempting to explain national character as the result 
 of circumstances, and while laying down as a fundamental 
 position that History and Biograpliy are wholly different 
 in their spheres, has occupied a very large and a very inter- 
 esting part of his history with the biographies of Adam 
 Smith, Voltaire, Burke, Montesquieu, Bossuet, Bichat, Hut- 
 ton, CuUen, and others. I shall call your attention to the 
 vast influence exerted on the course of events by such per- 
 sonalities as Augustine, Anselm, St. Bernard, Savonarola, 
 Luther, Loyola, and Wesley. Subtract from history names 
 like these, and its course would cease to be intelligible. 
 
 I shall speak first of the Christian Church, while it was 
 
TUE C.\TA(;0M1{S. 3 
 
 under ground, before it came into light and air. Great 
 soul-movements are apt to be like plants, having their 
 rudimental life in darkness. Unseen by man, unknown to 
 history, this very obscurity of their origin is an important 
 condition of their free development. As they have noth- 
 ing to hope or fear from the api)robatiou or criticism of the 
 world, they can unfuld tlieniselves according to their own 
 law of being. In silence and darkness they take the direc- 
 tion wliieh they are intended to pursue ; and when they 
 appear at last before mankind, they have passed from in- 
 fancy into the bone and sinew of manhood. 
 
 The period of which I now speak was the underground 
 age of Cliristianity ; but it seems to be a law that there is 
 nothing covered that shall not be revealed, nor anything 
 hid that shall not be known. 
 
 Two thousand years before Christ, some Egyptian priests 
 who had been paid large sums to embalm the body of a 
 royal princess, put into her splendid mummy-case the body 
 of a common Egyptian, dipt in asphaltum. They laughed 
 over it, I suppose, saying it would make no difference, for 
 it would never be known. But after forty centuries had 
 passed, the case was opened by Gliddon and Agassiz in 
 the Tremont Temple in Boston before a large audience, 
 and the cheat was detected. It may have added a pang to 
 the sufferings of the faithful Roman sentinel who stood at 
 his post before tlie gate of Pompeii till he was gradually 
 buried in the burning ashes, that no one would ever hear 
 of his fidelity. After fifteen hunch'ed years the city was 
 excavated ; and tlie skeleton of the soldier, in his rusty 
 corselet, was found. Many centuries of oblivion rested on 
 Egypt, Troy, Assyria, and the city of Agamemnon ; but 
 now ]\Iariette-Bey has read the stories of Egyptian dynas- 
 ties from their temple walls ; Layard brings to us vast 
 numbers of tablets from tlie libraries of Nineveh ; and Dr. 
 
4 EVENTS AND EPOCHS IN RELIGIOUS HISTORY. 
 
 Schliemann gives us the gold bracelets of Hecuba and the 
 gold necklaces of Clytemnestra from Troy and Argos. 
 Every hidden thing comes to light at last ; and the ob- 
 scure beginnings of Christianity, hidden in the Catacombs, 
 are revealed to us by the labors of Bosio and Eossi, 
 till we seem to be standing by the tombs of apostles and 
 martyrs. 
 
 § 2. What are the Catacombs? — The Catacombs are a 
 labyrinth of galleries excavated below the hills which 
 surround Eome. They are at different levels, cut out of 
 the tufa, or volcanic rock. Of this volcanic ttifa, there 
 are three kinds. The lowest stratum is a compact and 
 solid conglomerate called tiofa lithoide. This was an- 
 ciently quarried in large quantities for building purposes, 
 and its solidity appears from the fact that the Cloaca 
 Maxima was built of great rocks of this stone. Above 
 this are stratified beds of a softer rock called tufa grano- 
 lare. There are also beds of volcanic ashes, not solidified, 
 called pozzolana, of which the old Roman cement was 
 made. The excavations from which this has been taken 
 remain open in many places, and are called arenaria, or 
 sand-pits. But the Catacombs are not dug out of this 
 material, which is too soft for the purpose, — nor from the 
 tufa lithoide, which is too hard, — but from the interme- 
 diate strata, which are easily excavated, and yet are strong 
 enough for permanent galleries and tombs.-^ 
 
 These galleries cross and recross each other, and are so 
 extensive that, if stretched out into a single line, they 
 would be three hundred or four hundred miles long, — 
 long enough to extend from one extremity of Italy to the 
 other. They are narrow passages, usually only three or 
 four feet wide, with niches on each side for bodies. Of 
 
 ^ See illustration of Areiiaria aiul Catacombs in Plate I., "Ground 
 Plan of Catacoml s." 
 
THE CATACOxMDS. 5 
 
 these j^raves seventy thousand liave been counted, and 
 liussi lias calculated that in all there are more tlian three 
 million. Obviously then, the Catacombs are cemeteries, 
 and as obviously they are mostly Christian cemeteries, 
 and were used durinji,- three or lour hundred years as burial 
 l)laces by tlie Christians in Jtome. As the Pagan llomans 
 usually l)urned the bodies of the dead, and deposited the 
 ashes in an urn, they needed no such extensive l)urial-j)laces. 
 Niches were excavated on each side of the galleries, making 
 a receptacle in the roclv just large enough lor the body, and 
 were closed by slabs of stone fitted into grooves- and 
 cemented in their place. There were also larger family 
 vaults, or little chambers with graves on each side. These 
 were called ciibicnla, or bed-chambers.^ On the walls and 
 ceilings of these we often find fresco painting.s. These 
 rooms and the underground ]mssages were lighted and 
 ventilated here and there by what are called himinari, 
 or light holes, and spiragli, breathing-holes. These holes 
 still remain, often concealed by bushes, and are dangerous 
 to thos(} who ride on the Campagna. 
 
 The precise meaning of the word Catacomb is doubtful ; 
 the most probable etymology is that which derives it from 
 two words, Kara and ri^yo./?©?, " a tomb beneath," or under- 
 ground toml) ; or, perhaps, Kajci and fcoifidco, " an under- 
 grountl sleeping- place." We first hear of this word in the 
 sixth century. The earliest writers who mention these 
 catacomljs call them cryi)ts or cemeteries. This word 
 amctcry, is the exact equivalent in Greek to dormitory in 
 Latin, and means a sleeping-place. It came into use 
 with Christianity, and, like so many other words, contains 
 a whole history of thought and feeling. It maiks the ad- 
 vent of a new view of death, which regards it as a sleep, 
 a view given to us by Jesus, who loved always to speak 
 
 ^ See Plate III., Figuri- 2, fur a view of a Cubieiilum. 
 
6 EVENTS AND EPOCHS IN RELIGIOUS HISTORY. 
 
 of death as sleep : " Our friend Lazarus sleepetli." So the 
 writer of the Book of Acts, describing the cruel death of 
 Stephen, bruised with stones, says, " He fell asleep." Thus, 
 in the word Cemetery, we have the whole history of the 
 Christian view of death. 
 
 § 3. First Period. The Catacombs as Cemeteries. — Why 
 were these subterranean catacombs selected by the Chris- 
 tians for their burial-places ? To answer this question we 
 must consider a moment the situation of the early Chris- 
 tians in Eome. 
 
 The Eoman burial-places were all outside of the city, for 
 the Eoman law positively forbade interments within the 
 city. They extended on each side of the roads going out 
 of Eome. The rich had costly mausoleums for themselves 
 and their families, and columharia for their freedmen 
 and slaves. Many of the mausoleums and stately tombs 
 were above ground, as we still see them standing on either 
 side of the Appian Way. The columbaria were under- 
 ground chambers, with little niches (or pigeon-holes) all 
 around the walls, for cinerary urns containing the ashes. 
 There were also public burial-places for the poor, and enclos- 
 ures near by for cremation, surrounded by cypress-trees on 
 the four sides. All these monuments and burial-places were 
 consecrated ; and, after that, could not be bought or sold. 
 The area around the tombs was also consecrated ; the num- 
 ber of feet fronting on the road, and the number extending 
 backward into the field, being inscribed on the monument, 
 or cippus, in the corner of the ground. Horace (Sat. viii. 
 Book I.), speaking of such a burial-place, meant for the 
 poor, says : " The pillar (or cippus) at the entrance, marked 
 out a thousand feet in front on the road, and three hundred 
 Imck into the field, that the heir might lay no claim to it." 
 
 The Eoman law carefully protected the right of sepul- 
 ture. Tlie Eomans believed that the shades of the unburied 
 
TlIK CATACOMBS. 7 
 
 (lead wandered disconsolate for a hundred years on the 
 banks of the Styx, unable to cross the river. Cicero says : 
 " With regard to the right of sepulture, it is so sacred a 
 thing that all confess it sliould be i)ei'f()rnied in consecrated 
 ground, and if possible in land belonging to the family." 
 Even before the land was consecrated, as soon as a body 
 was deposited in it, it became relifjiosus, and could not 
 be taxed or transferred in the usual way. The Christian 
 might therefore be himself an outlaw, but simply by bury- 
 ing his dead lie placed them under the protection of the 
 Roman Pontifex. The Roman law distinctly allowed the 
 bodies of those capitally executed to be given to their 
 friends if asked for; — a law which illustrates the fact of 
 Joseph of Arimathea going to Pilate to ask the body of 
 Jesus. 
 
 The Christians, therefore, had a right to bury their dead 
 where they pleased. They might have bought ground on 
 each side of the Appian Way if they liked. Why then did 
 they prefer the Catacombs ? Because they differed from the 
 Romans in two particulars : first, they wished to bury their 
 dead without consuming them ; and secondly, they wished 
 to be buried by the side of those of their own religion. In 
 both these wishes they had been anticipated by the Jews, 
 and the Jews in Rome buried their dead in the Catacombs 
 before the time of Christ. Several very ancient Jewish 
 catacombs have been discovered. In other parts of the 
 world the Jews had excavated their tombs in the rocks. It 
 was natural they should do so here. The burial of bodies 
 without cremation seemed to the Roman mind barbarous, 
 and perhaps dangerous to health. It was, therefore, natural 
 that the Jews should select for this purpose the under- 
 ground receptacles, apart from observation, and to burial in 
 which no one could reasonably object. Following the are- 
 naria, or tremendous underground quarries, they diverged 
 
8 EVENTS AND EPOCHS IN RELIGIOUS HISTORY. 
 
 from them to the right or left into the soft tufa rock, and 
 there dug out galleries and tombs. One of these Jewish 
 catacombs was discovered by Bosio, on Monte Verde, very 
 much more ancient than the Christian catacomb near by. 
 There were Hebrew inscriptions in it, and a rude drawing 
 of the seven-branched candle-stick. In 1859 another Jew- 
 ish catacomb was discovered on the Appian Way, two 
 miles from Rome. Nearly two hundred inscriptions have 
 been found in it, but not one of them either Christian or 
 Pagan. One of the inscriptions is as follows: — 
 
 '* Here lies Salome, daughter of Gadia, Father of the Syna- 
 gogue of the Hebrews. She lived forty-one years. Her sleep 
 is in peace." 
 
 On another : — 
 
 " Here lies Nicodemus, ruler of the Severences, and beloved 
 by all. Be of good cheer, inoffensive young man! No one is 
 exempt from death." 
 
 The Jews, believing in immortality, often called the 
 tomb, not the Place of the Dead, but Beth-ha-haim, — the 
 House of the Liviniy. 
 
 Still another religious community buried their dead in a 
 catacomb of their own at Rome. This was composed of the 
 followers of Zoroaster. These religionists could not prac- 
 tise cremation, for fire to them was a god, and must not 
 be polluted by contact with a dead body. Nor could they 
 inter their dead in the earth, for the earth was a god also, 
 and must not touch a dead body. But their religious 
 needs were met by the Catacombs, where they could put 
 away their dead in the solid rock, where neither fire nor 
 earth would touch them. 
 
 The first Christians in Rome, being mostly Jews, fol- 
 lowed the example of tlieir natioir by burying in these gal- 
 leries in tlie rock. They also satisfied thus their sense of 
 
THE CATACOMBS. 9 
 
 1)1-0 tlierbootl. Loving each other during life, in their death 
 they were not divided. 
 
 One of the very ancient inscriptions states tliat " Auto- 
 nius has built tliis hjpogcnm (that is, underground tomb) 
 for himself, his family, and for those who believe in the 
 Master." Another monument consecrates a tomb "to tlio.se 
 who believe in my religion." This indicates the desire of 
 Christians to be buried near to each other ; and out of this 
 sense of brotherhood, outliving death, there gradually grew 
 u^) this vast subterranean necropolis, — this great City of 
 the Dead. 
 
 There also existed in Pagan Rome before Christ, Confra- 
 Lcrnities, or funeral societies, which had a right under 
 J Ionian Law to consecrate a piece of land lor burials. 
 There were in Home a large number of these burial-clubs. 
 Nearly eighty are mentioned, belonging to different trades. 
 There were confraternities of masons, carpenters, soldiers, 
 sailors, luuiters, fishermen, bakers, cooks, and the like. 
 Just as the modern burial societies in Catholic countries 
 are under the patronage of some saint, these Heathen 
 confraternities were under the protection of Jupiter, or 
 Hercules, Apollo, or Diana. In A. D. 133, there existed 
 one of these Collegia, consisting of slaves. An inscrip- 
 tion has been found, giving the constitution and l)y-laws 
 of this association. There was an admission fee, and a 
 monthly assessment. Tf this was regularly paid, a cer- 
 tain sum was to be allowed for funeral expenses. Six 
 times a year the members of this society dined together in 
 lionor of Diana and Antinous, and a fixed allowance of 
 bread and wine was made to each on this festival. 
 
 It was under the protection of these laws and customs 
 that the burial places of the first Christians began to be 
 made in the Catacombs. There was no secrecy in their 
 construction. They were entered by ornamental portals 
 
10 EVENTS xVND EPOCHS IN RELIGIOUS HISTORY. 
 
 from the higbways near the city. One disadvantage of 
 this was that these funereal monuments, both Pagan and 
 Christian, were apt to be defaced by advertisements and 
 rude inscriptions ; for it seems that the same vulgar love 
 of notoriety which leads people to scrawl their names on 
 the rocks in the Yo-Semite, or on the sides of Mont Blanc, 
 existed among the grave Eomans. Political placards were 
 also posted on the monuments and tombs. So, just as we 
 see the notice " Stick no bills here," you may read on the 
 lloman tombs, " Writer ! spare this work " ; Liseriptor ! 
 Togo tc vt transeas 7no7i'itmentum, which may be freely ren- 
 dered, — " Post no advertisements on this wall" 
 
 The Eoman law protecting burial-places, both Christian 
 and Pagan, was so faithfully executed by the Roman Col- 
 lege of Pontiffs, that, though they were pagans, their au- 
 thority in this matter was afterward confirmed even by 
 Christian Emperors. By degrees, the Christians took ad- 
 vantage of this respect for sepulchres, and excavated 
 chapels for prayer, and rooms for the love-feasts, in the inte- 
 rior of the Catacombs. And afterward, during times of 
 persecution, these rooms became hiding-places for the 
 Christians. 
 
 For some time after Christianity was diffused in Pome, 
 the Christians were considered as only a Jewish sect. The 
 religion of the Jews was a religio licita, — that is, one per- 
 mitted to be exercised ; and thus for a time the Christians 
 escaped persecution, under the protection of Judaism ; but 
 in the reign of ^ero they were distinguished from the 
 Jews, and be^an to be known as Christians. Then came 
 the first persecution under Nero. There was another per- 
 secution under Domitian, another under Trajan, another 
 under Aurelius Antoninus. Then it was that Polycarp 
 died in the arena at Smyrna ; and Blandina ; and then Jus- 
 tin acquired his surname of Martyr; and then, too, perished 
 
THE CATACOMDS. 11 
 
 St. Cecilia; and a great multitude more — "of whom the 
 world was not worthy." And thus, during two centuries, 
 down to the time of Constantine, the blood of the martyrs 
 was the seed of the church. 
 
 This period of persecution and martyrdom makes a new 
 epoch in the history uf the Catacombs. At lirst they were 
 simply underground cemeteries — with a few cha[)els here 
 and there for funeral services — where privacy, rather than 
 secrecy, M-as the object aimed at. 
 
 § 4. Second Period. Tlic Catacombs in the age of martyr- 
 dom ; as retreats from 2^er scent ion, and as places of wor- 
 ship. — It must always be borne in mind that to the 
 Itomau mind religion was an essential part of national 
 life, lieligion was a concern of the state, to be maintained 
 by the state, and observed in all its outward forms by all 
 good citizens. Koman religion had no doctrinal system, 
 and therefore had no hostility to heresy. Essentially an 
 external worship of ritual and ceremony, it paid no atten- 
 tion to opinions, so long as these externals were properly ob- 
 served. Such being the respect of the liomans for national 
 observance, they not only allowed but required the m.en of 
 other nations, residing in liome, to worship their own na- 
 tional gods. As long as the Christians seemed to be a part of 
 the Jewish population, and to be worshipping according to 
 Jewish rites, their peculiarities troubled the liomans very 
 little ; but the moment it was seen that they had broken 
 with Judaism, they lost their raison d'etre. Then it was 
 said to the Christians, non licet, " you have no right to be." 
 They were taunted with being " neither one thing nor the 
 other"; neither Jews nor Pagans — geiius tertiuin, some 
 third sort of creature, half-way between. 
 
 The Iiomans could not understand a religion wliich com- 
 prehended men of diHerent nations. "A man must be a 
 fool," said Celsus, "to believe that Greeks and Barbarians 
 can have the same irod." 
 
\ 
 
 12 EVENTS AND EPOCHS IN RELIGIOUS HISTORY. 
 
 It was also suspicious that they had no altars, images, 
 nor temples. This indicated something secret and mys- 
 terious. 
 
 Their brotherly love was also suspicious. The Roman 
 police could net see what united them together so closely, 
 if it were not a conspiracy. 
 
 Their refusing to worship the image of the Emperor was 
 also a sort of rebellion. They were like the Quakers under 
 James XL who would not take the oath of allegiance. This 
 constituted treason, — crimen majestatis. 
 
 They were also accused of morose indifference to public 
 affairs. They were i-egarded as men dead to the worhl, and 
 useless for public life. 
 
 The state not only punished them by law, but left them 
 outlaws, exposed to popular cruelty. To the ignorant, 
 everything strange is odious. Common people are all con- 
 servative ; they always hate novelty. Ignorance also is 
 the mother of calumny. Thus the Jews were believed by 
 the people of liome to be Avorshippers of swine, of the 
 clouds, of an ass's head, and to sacrifice a Greek every year 
 at a festival. 
 
 Christians were called Atheists. Even the astute Taci- 
 tus, who ought to liave known better, called Christianity 
 " a detestable superstition," and said that Christians " were 
 men hateful for their crimes, aud deserving the severest 
 punishments." 
 
 Hence came the terrible persecutions, first under Nero^- 
 and repeated under different emperors, till the accession of 
 Constantine. 
 
 The number of martyrs in the Catacombs has sometimes 
 been exaggerated. One tradition says that in that of Saint 
 Calixtus alone there were 174,000. 
 
 The greatest number was under Diocletian. Gibbon 
 thinks there were not more than 2,000 put to death at that 
 
THE CATACOMBS. 13 
 
 time. Probably this is mucli understated. Since Gibbon's 
 time we liave the testimony oi' the Lonibs in the Catacumbs, 
 on which is to be Ibunil the designation Marfyres, or Christi 
 Martijrcs, with such numerals as oO, 40, 150, and, in one 
 case, nOO. 
 
 Prudentius (in tlie fourth century) speaks of "silent 
 tombs," on which were only the number of the martyrs 
 recorded, and not their names. He mentions " sixty in 
 one tond), — obscure victims whose names were known 
 only to Christ." 
 
 There are, in fact, very few tombs (not more tlian five or 
 six in all) with the names of martyrs inscribed on them. 
 The following are si)ecimens : — 
 
 ' " Liinnus, the martyr of Clu'ist, lies here. lie sutlered under 
 Diocletian. For Iiis posterity also." 
 
 " Primitius, in peace, after many torments. A most vahant 
 martyr. He lived 38 years. [His wife] made this to her very 
 sweet and most deserving husband." 
 
 " Here lies Gordeanus, deputy from Gaul, who was strangled 
 for his faith, with all his family. iNIay they rest in peace. 
 Their hand-maid, Theophila, made this." 
 
 In the year 257 Valerian forbade, by an edict, the hold- 
 ing of Christian worshi}) in the Catacombs. Then, as the 
 Covenanters were pursued by the soldiers of Claverhouse 
 to the wild glens among the mountains where they met 
 for worship, as the Huguenots were hunted in France 
 in their hidden meetings, so were the Christians hunted 
 by Ivoman soldiers through the dismal recesses of the Cata- 
 combs. Some of them were blocked up and buried alive. 
 Many were dragged out and i)ut to death with torture. 
 
 An entire change then took place in the sti'ucture of the 
 Catacombs, to suit them to purposes of escape or conceal- 
 ment. Till* main entrances were blocked up, and the stair- 
 
14 EVENTS AND EPOCHS IN RELIGIOUS HISTORY. 
 
 ways destroyed. Lower galleries were excavated under 
 the upper oues, narrower, darker, more complicated and 
 labyrinthine. Many galleries were tilled with earth or 
 built up with masonry. In the Cemetery of Oalixtus nar- 
 row passages were cut for escape into an adjoining arena- 
 rium ; and from this arenarium, a very narrow secret 
 stairway was constructed to the surface above, the open- 
 ing into which could only be reached by a movable ladder. 
 
 Hiding-places were constructed in the deepest recesses, 
 where bishops and other ecclesiastics sometimes lay hidden 
 for years, and celebrated worship in the neighboring chap- 
 els. Tertullian speaks of " a lady unaccustomed to priva- 
 tion, trembling in one of these vaults, apprehensive of the 
 capture of her maid, on wdioni she depends for her daily 
 bread." Wells were dug for the supply of water ; store- 
 rooms were cut out for corn and wine ; hundreds of lamps 
 have been Ibund, for lighting up the dreary recesses. 
 
 I will not describe the horrible tortures inflicted on these 
 helpless victims, whose only crime was their religion. 
 They are fully related by Eusebius, who had himself wit- 
 nessed them. The number who met death in this frightful 
 form was so great as to fully justify the ascription in the 
 Te Deiim, — " the noble army of martyrs praise Thee ! " 
 
 But the courage of Christians grew stronger in the midst 
 of these dangers and horrors. An enthusiasm for mar- 
 tyrdom sprang up, a desire to win an eternal heaven 
 throuL>h a few hours of sufferin"*. It was the universal 
 
 O O 
 
 belief that martyrdom was the surest road to heaven, — 
 better than all sacraments, all prayers, all good works. 
 Then Christians offered themselves to die, — demanding 
 tortures, seeking persecution, glorying in shame. The 
 humblest Christian slave going to death, saw himself sur- 
 rounded by a halo of immortal glory. "These tortures," 
 said St. Basil, "so far from being a terror, are rather a 
 
THE CATACO.MnS. 15 
 
 recreation." " Kill us, rack us, <^riii(l us to powder," says 
 TertuUiau ; " our numbers increase in proportion as yuu 
 mow us down." 
 
 Then was exemplified, as often before and since, the 
 mighty power of the soul over the body. Many ingenious 
 arguments can be brought in sui)port of materialism ; but 
 they all vajiish into nothing in the presence of such phe- 
 nomena as these, when delicate women, old men, and even 
 children, bear, wiliiout Ihnching, incredible tortures. The 
 strennth comes to them Irom iileas and convictions of 
 which the senses take no cognizance. A man who was a 
 Pagan yesterday, becomes a believer in Christ to-day ; and 
 goes calmly to a cruel death to-m(jrrow sustained by his 
 new belief. Thus faith is the best " evidence of things not 
 seen," evidence that these are realities ; intangible, indeed, 
 and imponderable, but the mightiest forces in existence. 
 
 The spirit, the water, and the blood bore witness. Such 
 a spirit as this, leading men to be ba})tized in the name 
 of Christ, and then to die, astonished a world which had 
 tried everything and had iaith in nothing. Omnia fui, 
 niJiil cj.jycdit, said the Emperor Severus ; " I have been 
 everything, and all things are worthless." But these Chris- 
 tians had found something worth so much to them that, 
 in (ii'der to secure it, they welcomed death as a bride. Then 
 was fulfdled the Master's parable of a treasuie hid in a litdd, 
 which when a n)an finds, for joy thereof he selleth all he 
 hath and buyeth the Held. The field where the treasure was 
 hid was the place of torture and burial. No Monder that 
 a world divided between monstrous luxury and wretched 
 slavery, — where the rich were consumed by ennui, and 
 weary of life, and the masses were trampled into misery, — 
 was attracted by this strange power. No wonder that pa- 
 tricians, like some members of the great Flavian family, — 
 one of whom was both consul and martyr, — and Flavia 
 
16 EVENTS AND EPOCHS IN EELIGIOUS HISTORY. 
 
 Domitilla, niece of the Emperor Domitian, should have 
 been willing to die in order to get a little positive life. 
 " Here, at least," they may have said, " men seem to be 
 really alive ; actually to care for something ; to believe in 
 somethino-." So the irresistible attraction of life drew 
 them to this strange faith, even though, in order to pos- 
 sess it, they had to pass through the gate of death. For, as 
 the poet says : — 
 
 " 'Tis life, whereof our nerves are scant ; 
 O hfe ! not death, for which we pant ; 
 More life, and fuller, that we want." 
 
 No wonder that flowers of poetry, like tlie lovely stories 
 of St. Agnes and St. Cecilia, sprang up around these graves. 
 No wonder that, after the persecutions ceased, these chapels 
 and tombs should have been adorned with frescoes, mar- 
 bles, mosaics, and paintings. Prudentius, in the fourth 
 century, thus describes the shrine of Hippolytus : — 
 
 " That little chapel, which contains the cast-off garments of 
 his soul, is bright with solid silver. Wealthy hands have put 
 up glittering tablets smooth and bright as a mirror, and have 
 adorned the entrance with Parian marble." 
 
 No wonder that they should regard this place as holy 
 ground, and seek to be laid as near as possil)le to the bones 
 of the martyrs. So sprang up by degrees that faith in the 
 miraculous power of their relics, out of which finally grew 
 a profitable trade in dead men's bones. 
 
 Many inscriptions testify to such a belief in the value of 
 the martyrs' remains. One says : " Valeria and Sabina 
 bought for themselves, while living, this new crypt behind 
 the saints." Augustine justified this practice, declaring it 
 profitable to be buried near a saint; though how it was 
 profitable he could not, he confessed, explain. Jerome 
 took the same uround. But more reasonable is the view 
 
THE CATACOMBS. 17 
 
 expressed in the epitaph on the Archdeacon Sabinus, lately 
 found at San Lorenzo: — 
 
 " It does no good, but rather harm, to keep close to the 
 tombs of the saints. A good life is tlie best way of approaching 
 their merits. We come near to tiiem, not with our body, but 
 with our soul. When the soul is well saved, the body is safe 
 too." 
 
 Aufjustine also made a distinction between the reverence 
 due to martyrs, and the worship of God : " We do not build 
 temples to martyrs," says he, " but remember them as those 
 wliose si)irits live with God. Nor do we erect altars to 
 them, but only to God, their God and ours." 
 
 We have been among tombs, but the tombs have been 
 made cheerful by an atmosphere of patience, courage, faith, 
 and love. What matters it how wretchedly men live in 
 their outward life, if their souls are full of immortal en- 
 ergy ! What matters it amid what tortures they die, if 
 their hearts are dwelling in peace ! That this sublime 
 yet simple faith prevailed in tlie beginnings of Chris- 
 tianity, the voice of these hidden tombs proclaims. Buried 
 in oblivion for a thousand years, they testify to-day that 
 there is a spirit in man wliicli can grow more vigorous 
 when the body dies. As we peruse the records of this 
 interesting history, we remember the poet's words and 
 make them our own : — 
 
 " I cannot hide tliat some have striven, 
 Achieving cahn, to Avhom was given 
 The joy that mixes man with Heaven ; 
 
 " Who, rowing hard against the stream, 
 Saw distant gates of Eden gleam, 
 And did not dream it was a dream ; 
 
 " But heard, by secret transport led, 
 E'en in the cliarnels of tlie dt'ad, 
 The murmur of tlie fountain-head." 
 
18 EVENTS AND EPOCHS IN KELIGIOUS HISTORY. 
 
 II. 
 
 THE CATACOMBS. 
 
 § 1. Third Period of the Catacombs. The Catacombs as 
 Sacred Places. — On October 28, AD. 312, Flavius Au- 
 relius Constantine entered Eome in triumph. On that 
 day Imperial Heathenism was overthrown, and the perse- 
 cution of the Christians ceased. Thirteen years after, the 
 Roman Senate erected the triumphal arch which still 
 stands in the forum, near the vast amphitheatre, where 
 Christians had been so recently butchered " to make a Eo- 
 man holiday." The inscription on the arch declares that 
 this trophy was raised to " the Emperor and Caesar Flavius 
 Constantinus Maximus Augustus, the Father of his Coun- 
 try ; because, through the instinct of Deity and the magna- 
 nimity of his mind, ... he had overthrown the tyrant and 
 avenged the Eepublic," These words, "the instinct of tlie 
 Deity," mark a new faith at hand. No such phrase had 
 ever before been on a Eoman state monument. Hither- 
 to it liad always been nutto Jovis, optimi, maximi. The 
 following year, A.D. 313, Constantine and his colleague 
 issued two decrees, granting liberty of worship to Chris- 
 tians and Heathen alike, and to all other religions professed 
 throughout the empire. 
 
 The first result for the Catacombs of this event was that 
 Christianity ceased to be a wholly underground religion. 
 Churches were built and reopened above ground. Burials 
 in the Catacombs now were not from necessity but from 
 
THE CATACOMBS. 19 
 
 clioicc ; from a desire to lay one's remains, or those of a 
 IViuiul, near the bones of the martyrs. 
 
 Wealthy Clu'istians now enlarged tlie cliapels and added 
 new decorations, rictures, sarcopliagi, and ornamentation 
 became more magnificent, but were less tasteful and sini- 
 l)le tlian before. Damasus, Bishop of Home from A.D. 
 oOG to A. I). 384, restored tlie tombs, inscriptions, and 
 pictures. He built piers of masonry to support the totter- 
 ing galleries. He cleared out the passages whicli had been 
 tilled up, and wrote poetical inscriptions on the martyrs' 
 tombs. Basilicas were now built above the Catacombs, to 
 designate the martyr's grave below. The inscriptions of 
 Damasus were executed by a tine engraver, and were done 
 in an admirable way.^ 
 
 St. Jerome, A.D. 354, several years before Damasus 
 began his restomtions, thus describes a visit to the Cata- 
 combs : — 
 
 " When I was a boy, being educated at Rome, I used every 
 Sunday, in company with other boys, to visit the tombs of the 
 apostles and martyrs, and to go into the crypts excavated there 
 within the Ijowels of the earth. The walls on either side as you 
 enter are full of the bodies of the dead, and the whole place is 
 80 dark that one almost sees the fulfilment of those words of 
 the prophet, * Let them go down alive into Hades.' Here and 
 there a little light, admitted from above, suffices to give a mo- 
 mentary relief from the horror of darkness ; but as you go for- 
 ward and find yourself again immersed in the utter blackness of 
 niudit, the words of the poet come to your mind, 'Silence 
 makes us afraid.' " 
 
 The Latin poet Prudent ins, a little later, describes the 
 Catacombs as they were after I'isliop Damasus began his 
 restorations. 
 
 ^ Seo riatf n. Fig. 1, for a repaired and inscribed < 'u1)iculuni- 
 
20 EVENTS AND EPOCHS IN RELIGIOUS HISTORY. 
 
 " Not far from the city walls, among the well trimmed or- 
 chards, there lies a crypt buried in darksome pits. Into its 
 secret recesses a steep path with winding stairs directs one, 
 though the turnings shut out the light. The light of day, en- 
 tering the doorway, illuminates the threshold ; and when, as you 
 advance further, the darkness as of night arrives, there occur, at 
 intervals, apertures cut in the roof, which let in some rays of 
 the sun. . . . Wondrous is the sanctity of the place. Here 
 rests the body of Hippolytus. . . . Here have I, when sick in 
 body and soul, often prostrated myself in prayer and found re- 
 lief, . . . Wealthy hands have here put up bright tablets. Early 
 in the morning pilgrims come to salute the saint ; they come 
 and go till the setting of the sun. Love of religion collects 
 here natives and foreigners ; they print kisses on the shining 
 tablets of the tomb. ... On the Feast of the Martyrs the 
 imperial city pours forth her stream of Romans, plebeians and 
 patricians alike, faith urging both to the shrine. Albano's 
 gates also send forth their white-robed host. The noise on all 
 the roads grows loud," etc. 
 
 A.D. 410 Eome was taken by Alaric. After this there 
 were no more interments in the Catacombs. They con- 
 tinued, however, to be frequented by pilgrims. Afterwards 
 the popes began to bring the relics into the city to give 
 greater sanctity to the churches. Then the Catacombs 
 ceased to be visited, were closed up with earth and for- 
 gotten, and not rediscovered until the sixteenth century. 
 Antonio Bosio then spent thirty-six years in groping 
 among the tombs of these crypts, deciphering inscriptions 
 and copying pictures. He was called the Columbus of this 
 subterranean world. His great work " Roma Sotteranea " 
 was published in 1632, five years after his death. ^ After 
 this time they were often visited, and other explorers pub- 
 lished important books on the Catacombs. Among them 
 
 1 This work of Bosio, with those of Rossi, Northcote, Ferret, etc., are 
 in tlie Public Library, Boston. 
 
TIIK CATACOMUS. 21 
 
 were Bottaii, IJaoul llachette, Padre Marclii, M. IVriet, 
 (wliose work is in six iulio voliiuu'S, with 500 colored draw- 
 in«^s), De Kossi, Nortlicote, Maitland, and Witlnow. 
 
 § 2. Monograms and Pictures in tlw Catacombs. — Some 
 writers have stated that the cross, or its monogram, is the 
 most ancient of the Christian symbols. This is a mistake. 
 Nortlicote, tlie Roman Catholic, following liossi, declares 
 tliis not to be borne out by archaeological facts. No sign 
 of the cross, no picture of the crucifixion nor of the suf- 
 ferings of Christ, appears in the tombs of the first two 
 centuries. However strange this may seem to those who 
 consider the death of Christ the main fact of Christianity, 
 it is certainly so. Dr. Wi throw, in his work on the Cata- 
 combs, admits that they contain few representations of the 
 cross. The cross does not appear in monograms till after 
 the victory of Constantine in the fourth century. One or two 
 figures which may seem intended for a disguised cross, 
 made by two branches of trees intersecting each other, 
 are to be found on an arcosolium, or vaulted tomb, of the 
 third century. The reason assigned by modern writers for 
 this absence of the cross in the Catacombs is that it was an 
 object of contempt to the Heathen ; " a badge of infamy 
 and sign of shame " says Withrow. No doubt. But Chris- 
 tianity itself was considered " atheism " by some, a " con- 
 temptible superstition" by others. Paul said, "I am not 
 ashamed of the cross of Christ." Were those who were 
 ready to be crucified themselves, ashamed of it ? The true 
 reason probably was tliat in those early periods Christians 
 thou«dit more of tlie life and teaching^ of Christ than of his 
 death. In the midst of tombs, they did not think of tombs. 
 Tlie images on these walls are cheerful, hopeful, and signifi- 
 cant of good. Tliere are no pictures of hell or of purga- 
 tory, such as appear in after centuries. Christ is not rep- 
 resented as tlie Judge but as tlie Good Shepherd, carrying 
 
22 EVENTS AND EPOCHS IN RELIGIOUS IIISTOEY. 
 
 the lamb in his arms or on his shoulders.^ The earliest 
 symbols are the vine, the fish, the miracle at Cana, the 
 paralytic man carrying his bed, the multiplication of the 
 loaves and fishes, the raising of Lazarus, and the entrance of 
 Christ into Jerusalem. With these, — from the Old Tes- 
 tament are Jonah under his gourd, as a sign of a protect- 
 ing providence ; Jonah swallowed by the fish, as the sign of 
 a persecuted and hidden religion ; Jonah coming out of the 
 fish, as the sign of the future resurrection of Christianity; 
 Daniel in the lion's den, or the three children in the fiery 
 furnace,^ as the sign of safety amid persecution. The dove 
 with the olive branch, coming back to Noah, implied the 
 hope that the deluge of evil was about to pass away. 
 Moses striking the rock was the type of the comfort 
 brought to the soul by tlie living waters of truth. All 
 these pictures are symbols of hope ; they suggest comfoili 
 and trust. In these gloomy vaults nothing is gloomy. 
 The earliest pictures are the brightest, cheeriest, least con- 
 ventional of all. Beautiful grapevines gracefully climb 
 over the walls ; little birds sit on the branches and peck 
 at the grapes. The ceilings are painted in fresco and in 
 bright colors, so as to resemble those of Pompeii. Even the 
 mythology of Heathenism is borrowed, with a Christian 
 sense given to it. Orpheus is represented as taming the 
 wild beasts with his lyre, and making the trees follow him ; 
 and Ulysses as binding himself to the mast. The one rep- 
 resents the peaceful triumph of Jesus over the ferocious 
 passions and the dull insensibility of men ; the other is 
 the emblem of virtue resisting the allurements of sinful 
 pleasure. Such are the paintings in the oldest tombs and 
 
 1 See Plate IV. Fig, 1, where tins occurs on the sarcophagus thifse 
 times ; one Good Shepherd in the middle, and one on each side. 
 
 2 See, for such pictures, Plate III. Fig. I. of the Catacombs, where 
 many of these symbolic figures are to be found. 
 
1'. ^... I 
 
 xi^!t f I 
 
 
 
 B'^m 
 
 -w 
 
 ^•^ 
 
 ^\T.> 
 
 .Lil 
 
 \4 
 
 \ 
 
 'n 
 
 :.»: 
 
 -^■i^ 
 
 i 
 
 I I... 1 Symbolic Paintings on thk AValls ok a Cluicui.lm. 
 
THE CATACOMBS. 23 
 
 around the graves of the first martyrs. One of the very 
 earliest, and also most connnon, is that of the Good Shep- 
 herd carrying the lamb on liis shoulder, with the sheep 
 around him. Sometimes he holds in his hand the classical 
 sijrinx, or Pan's-pii)e, to indicate the sweet melody by which 
 he attracts these tleecy followers. Sometimes the Good 
 Shepherd carries a staff or crook in his hand, on wliich he 
 leans. Sometimes he is sitting as if weary, like Jesus at 
 the well of Jacob, recalling, as Dr. Withrow suggests, the 
 tender pathos of the lines in the *' Dies Irai": — 
 
 " Quocreiis nie scdisti lassus, 
 Rudemisti, criiccm passus, 
 Tautus labor non sit cassus ! " 
 
 Every one tries to translate this grand Latin hymn, 
 but no one has yet succeeded. A paraphrase of these lines 
 1 can give, but not their soul : — 
 
 " Seeking me, thy tired feet hasted ; 
 For my soul that torture tasted; — 
 May not all this toil be wasted." 
 
 or this version : — 
 
 " By the wayside dreary, sitting worn and weary, 
 Tliou didst seek me. my Master, seek thy wandering child ; 
 All such sorrow tasted, let it not be wasted, 
 Nor in vain that death of pain endured with patience mild." 
 
 On hfty-five sarcophagi in the Lateran Museum, taken 
 from the Catacombs, the history of Jonah occurs twenty- 
 three times ; the miracle of the loaves, twenty ; the change 
 of water to wine, sixteen ; the raising of Lazarus, sixteen ; 
 while there is l)ut one picture of the Nativity, and one of 
 Christ crowned with tliorns. Further they do not go ; 
 into the sanctuary of sorrow they do not enter. These art- 
 ists stopped in a sacred awe before they reached the cruel 
 scenes of the scourLjim' and the crucilixiou. It is a 
 
24 EVENTS AND EPOCHS IN RELIGIOUS HISTORY. 
 
 curious illustration of the insight of poetic imagination that 
 Goethe, in one of his stories, describing an educational in- 
 stitution where the glad scenes of the life of Jesus were 
 painted on the walls for the moral edification of the pupils, 
 makes the teacher say : " We draw a veil over the sufferings 
 of Jesus, even because we reverence them so highly. We 
 hold it wrong to bring forth that torturing cross, and the 
 Holy One who suffers on it ; to take those mysterious se- 
 crets, in which the Divine depth of sorrow lies hid, and ex- 
 pose them till the most reverend of all solemnities appears 
 vulgar." The early Christians anticipated by a Cliristian 
 instinct what the philosophic poet arrived at by reflection. 
 They also drew a veil over the Divine depth of sorrow. 
 
 Whenever Jesus appears in these scenes he is repre- 
 sented as youthful in his appearance, with a countenance 
 of tender grace, full of cheerful good-will. The stern type 
 of the Byzantine mosaics had not come ; nor the lugubrious 
 type of the later centuries ; nor that which some of the 
 early fathers derived from a few texts of Scripture which 
 represented him as " without form or comeliness." Thus 
 Tertullian asserted that Christ had no human beauty, and 
 St. Cyril declared him to be tlie most homely in appear- 
 ance of the sons of men. 
 
 In those early times there was no attempt to make a 
 portrait of Jesus. Augustine frankly admitted that the 
 countenance of Jesus was entirely unknown ; and he adds, 
 " Neither do we know the face of the Virgin Mary nor 
 what were the features of Lazarus." 
 
 Tliere is a description of the person of Jesus, coming 
 down from antiquity, the so-called letter of Lentulus to 
 the Eoman Senate, which says : " He was tall and well- 
 proportioned, of a countenance full of force and gravity, 
 such as mo\'ed spectators both to love and fear. His hair 
 was auburn and glossy, and it flowed down upon his 
 
THE CATACOMBS. 25 
 
 shoulders, curly and parted in the middle after the manner 
 of the Nazarenes." The forehead is described as " smcjuth 
 and serene ; the countenance witliout wrinkle or si)ot, of a 
 pleasing complexion ; the nose and mouth without fault ; 
 the beard thick, of the same color as the hair, and divided ; 
 eyes liglit in color and very bright." 
 
 The oldest portrait of Jesus known to exist, is one in the 
 Catacombs, in the ancient cemetery of Domitilla, grand- 
 daughter of the Emperor Vespasian. It is, however, so 
 utterly decayed that two copies, one by Kugler and the 
 other by Mr. Heaphy, both printed by Northcote, are 
 wholly different from each other. 
 
 The only other ancient representation of Jesus is on a 
 sarcophagus of the fourth century, and represents him 
 curing the woman with an issue of blood. Both these 
 portraits are full of dignity and gravity. That from the 
 catacomb, as reproduced by Mr. Heaphy, has an extremely 
 earnest expression, as of one seeking strength from above 
 for difficult work. The expression is certainly much su- 
 perior to most later types of the face of the Savior. 
 
 The lamb is frequent as a sign of Christ, who was 
 called by John the Baptist the Lamb of God. The 
 apostles are sometimes represented as twelve lambs stand- 
 ing around him. Sometimes there is a milk-pail, a symbol 
 of spiritual food, " the sincere milk of the word." One of 
 the most frequent symbols is the fish. It accompanies the 
 first dated inscription which bears any eml)lem (A. D. 234). 
 A hundred examples of the fish are found on monuments 
 of the first three centuries. This symbol first appeared 
 in Alexandria, It is found on the tombs, rudely scratched 
 on the plaster, carved on the walls, or cast in bronze. 
 
 Other favorite symbols are the dove with a branch in her 
 beak ; the anchor, indicating the soul which has arrived at 
 a harbor of rest. A ship is a common image of the voyage 
 
26 
 
 EVENTS AND EPOCHS IN RELIGIOUS HISTORY. 
 
 of the soul to a better land. The palm branch is the sign 
 of victoiy, as the dove is the emblem of peace, or some- 
 times of innocence, and sometimes of the Holy Spirit. The 
 peacock also appears often, — emblem of immortality ; 
 the cock, indicating watchfulness ; the stag, sign of the 
 longing for divine waters ; the horse, of speed in the Chris- 
 tian race ; the lion, of fortitude of soul ; the balance, re- 
 ferring to the Judgment. 
 
 The most common symbol of all, however, in the Cata- 
 combs is the monogram made up of the first two letters of 
 the Greek name of Christ, — 
 
 and 
 
 D 
 
 The usual form is — 
 
 X 
 
 Other forms are : — 
 
THE CATACOMBS. 27 
 
 or, finally, this symbol combiued with the cross, as 
 
 D 
 
 Besides these symbols there is a series of biblical pic- 
 tures, mostly iVom tlie Old Testament. These are Adam 
 and Eve, Noah in tlie ark, the sacrifice of Isaac, Moses 
 takin<^^ ofi' his shoes, Moses receiving the law, Moses strik- 
 ing the rock, the sufferings of Job, the translation of 
 I^lijah, the three Hebrew children, Daniel in the lion's 
 den, Jonah. And from the New Testament, — the adora- 
 tion of the magi, Christ with the doctors, and the other 
 scenes of the life of Jesus before mentioned. But the 
 Virgin Mary scarcely appears, the earliest picture of her 
 not dating before the fourth century, and then showing 
 her in the simple human character of a mother. Nor does 
 her name appear in any of the inscriptions of the Lapi- 
 darian Gallery in the Vatican. Only three times is her 
 name, Maria, found in the Catacombs, the earliest not be- 
 fore A. D. 381, and in neither case with an ora ijro nobis, 
 or an ave or a mater dei. 
 
 § 3. EpigrapJbs and Inscriptions in the Catacombs. — 
 Pnssing on to consider the epigraphs, we find no fewer 
 than 11,000 inscriptions, of which Bossi says that 6,000 be- 
 long to tlie first four centuries, and 4,000 before the time 
 of Constantine. All are Boman, and anterior to the close 
 of the sixth century. " Tlie earliest with a distinctly Chris- 
 tian phrase, rcceptus ad Deum, is of A. D. 217 ; the first with 
 the incised monogram of the name of Christ (-p) belongs to 
 A.D. 201." 
 
 All those who have visited Rome have irone through the 
 
28 EVENTS AND EPOCHS IN RELIGIOUS HISTORY. 
 
 Lapidarian Gallery in the Vatican, 800 feet long, the 
 walls on both sides covered with slabs of stone containinsj 
 in all about 3,000 inscriptions. On one side are the Pagan 
 funeral inscriptions ; on the other the Christian. The con- 
 trast is very striking. On the Pagan side we read the 
 familiar names of the great Eoman families, of the 
 Gens Cornelia, the Gens Aurelia, etc., with their titles and 
 offices ; on the other the names of Christians, mostly hum- 
 ble, written often in rude Latin. This collection has been 
 made by the order of successive popes. 
 
 Eossi gives in his " Inscriptiones ChristianaG" 1374 
 inscriptions with consular dates. They are mostly carved 
 in large letters in Latin, sometimes in Greek ; with no 
 spaces between the words, often abbreviated to save la- 
 bor. The usual, almost universal, word is "Peace." On 
 nearly all the Christian gravestones this word occurs. 
 In pace ; " He rests in peace," " She sleeps in peace." 
 Through these vast domains of death, peace reigns. All 
 reminds us of the heavenly legacy of the Master : " Peace 
 I leave with you ; my peace give I unto you ; not as the 
 world gives, give I unto you. Let not your heart be trou- 
 bled, neither let it be afraid." 
 
 I will give some examples of the early inscriptions, to 
 show the simple, childlike faith which pei-vades them, and 
 the absence of all theology : — 
 
 " To Libera Maximilla, a most well-beloved wife. She lived 
 iu peace." 
 
 " To the well-deserving Silvana, who sleeps here in peace. 
 She lived twenty-one years, three months, four hours, and six 
 scruples." [Six scruples are a quarter of an hour.] 
 
 " Silvana to her well-deserving husband, Niciatis, with whom 
 she lived three years, two months, and eleven hours." 
 
 They are affectionately exact as to the length of life ; 
 but they do not mention the year of birth or the year of 
 death, as we do. 
 
THE CATACOMi;.]. 20 
 
 Here is a long inscription, with consular dates, which 
 gives the year 217 : — 
 
 " To Marcus Aurehiis Porscnes, frccdman of the two Au- 
 gust!, of the hedchambcr of Augustus, procurator of the gifts, 
 procurator of the wines, afjpoiiitud by the deified Coinmodus to 
 duty in the camp, a most affectionate patron. For him, well- 
 deserving, his freedmen provided this sarcophagus at their own 
 cost. Porsenes was received to God on the fifth day before the 
 Nones. Pricseus and Extricatus being consuls." 
 
 In another, instead of this expression " received to God," 
 is " Aurelia, our sweet daughter, retired from the world." 
 
 Another to a child, mentioning the duration of the ill- 
 ness : — 
 
 '• The God-loving Ileraclitus lived eight years and thirteen 
 days. He was ill twelve days. His father Xanthias to his 
 son, sweeter than light and life." 
 
 Another to a child says : — 
 
 " May you live among the holy ones." 
 
 The grammar is often poor, as in this : — 
 
 " Leuces erected this to her very dear daughter, and to thy 
 holy spirit." [Meaning " Acr holy spirit."] 
 
 " Silvana, thou didst live well with me from thy maidenhood, 
 rejoicing in innocent wedlock. Refresh thyself among the holy 
 spirits." 
 
 On one slab is written : — 
 
 " Called away by angels." 
 
 On another, of date 377, wo read : — 
 
 " Born again of heavenly water." 
 
 Ticsides these there are many rude scrawls. 
 The universal testimony of these graves, for four cen- 
 tuiies, i.s that the gift of Christ was not fear of an angry 
 
30 EVENTS AND EPOCHS IN RELIGIOUS HISTORY. 
 
 God nor of a torturing hell nor of penal fires, but rest and 
 peace. 
 
 On a grave, A. D. 339, we read : — 
 
 Bene quiescenti in yace ; " Resting well in peace." 
 
 The same year : — 
 
 In pace decessit ; " He departed in peace." 
 
 A. D. 348. — Requievit ; " He has rested." y 
 
 A. D. ?>5^. — Pausahit; "He will rest." 
 
 A. D. 355. — Quiescit ; " He rests." 
 
 A. D. 359. — Ivit ad Deum ; " He went to God." 
 
 A. D. 363. — SemiDer quiescis secura; "Thou dost repose for- 
 ever free from care." 
 
 A. D. 368. — Quiescis in 'pace, conjux incomparahills ; "Thou 
 dost rest in peace, incomparable wife." 
 
 A. D. 369. — Vocitus [for vocatus'] ill in pace ; " Being called 
 away, he went in peace." 
 
 A. D. 380. — Sterna requiem felicitatis ; " Everlasting rest of 
 happiness." 
 
 A. D. 381. — "Theodora, lived twenty-one years, seven 
 months, twenty-three days, in peace. She follows a larger 
 life ; and, a chaste beauty, she made her way to the stai's. 
 Now she has joy in the mansion of Christ. She withstood the 
 w^orld, always following heavenly things. She kept the law 
 most diligently, and was a mistress of faith ; and applied always 
 her excellent intellect to spiritual matters. Therefore she 
 reigns amid the fragrance of Paradise, where the grass is always 
 green by the streams, expecting God, and hoping to rise to the 
 upper airs. Her husband, Euacrias, when she left her body, 
 laid all that was mortal in this tomb, carefully building this 
 monument." 
 
 A. D. 380. — " Here rests a handmaid of God {ancilla Dei), 
 who of all her wealth retains this house only. Her friends be- 
 wail her and seek for consolation. pray for thine only child 
 whom thou has left behind. Thou wilt remain in eternal 
 rest." 
 
THE CATACOMBS. 31 
 
 This is the first instance of asking the prayers of the 
 dead, a custom so abhorrent to strict Protestants. But 
 may not Protestants have carried this feeling too far? 
 Was not this the natural consequence of the new faith in 
 an uninterrupted life beyond the grave ? If it was right 
 to ask them to pray for us before they left us, why was it 
 not right to ask them to pray for us just after they had 
 passed the narrow line which separates this life from the 
 next ? So the early Christians no doubt reasoned. 
 
 The following inscription bears date A. D. 472. It is in 
 
 alternate Latin pentameters and hexameters : — 
 
 " Levita3 conjux Petronia, forma piidoris, 
 His mea deponens sedibus ossa loco ; 
 Parcite vos Lacrimis, dulces cum conjugo natse, 
 Viventemque Deo credite flere nefas." 
 
 " I, Petronia, wife of a levite, [i. e. deacon], a type of modesty, 
 lay my bones in this place. Spare your tears, sweet daughters 
 and husband, and know that it is wrong to weep for one who is 
 alive with God." 
 
 Other expressions are : — 
 
 A. D. 462. — " Laid in the peace of the Catholic faith." 
 
 A. D. 500. — " Pieposing in the peace of God." 
 
 A. D. 523. — " In the peace of the church." 
 
 A. D. 523. — ** In peace and benediction." 
 
 A. D. 500. — " Ever faithftd, he will remain with God." 
 
 Other inscriptions express the hope of following after. 
 
 Precessit nos in pace. 
 
 "He went before us in peace." 
 
 ITpoaireAfla)*' tov Kad' r]fxa,s $iov 
 
 " Going away before out of our life." 
 
 A.D. 383. Abiit ether iam cujyiens cceli conscendere lucem. 
 " She departed, desiring to ascend to the etherial light of 
 heaven." 
 
32 EVENTS AND EPOCHS IN RELIGIOUS HISTORY. 
 
 A.D. 393. ''Eutuchius, wise, pious, and kind, believing in 
 Christ, entered the portals of death and has the rewards of 
 light." 
 
 A.D. 393. " Here sleeps, in the sleep of peace, the sweet and 
 innocent Severianus, whose spirit is received into the light of 
 the Lord." 
 
 A.D. 393. ''Here lies Urbica, sweet and ever modest. She 
 lived a speaker of truth. She rests secure through eternal 
 ages." 
 
 The oldest inscription believed to be Christian is A.D. 73 ; 
 the next A.D. 107; the third A.D. 110. 
 
 De Eossi considers the following as one of the most an- 
 cient in Eome : 
 
 " As a sleeping-place for Titus Flavius Eutjchius, who lived 
 19 years, 11 months and 3 days, his dearest friend, Marcus 
 Orbius, gave this spot. Farewell, beloved ! " 
 
 This was about the end of the first century. 
 
 Domitilla, niece of Domitian, was banished by him, as 
 Dio Cassius says, " for Atheism and Judaizing," i.e., being 
 a Christian. Ancient writers state that she was buried a 
 mile and a half from Rome. SticIi a tomb has been found, 
 with fine pictures on the walls.^ 
 
 I will now give, for the sake of comparison, some of the 
 Pagan epitaphs. Rossi says that the oldest of these differ 
 from the Christian in what they add, more than in what 
 they omit. For example, the Pagan epitaphs have almost 
 always at the top, "D.M.," vnQdinmg D Us Manihus \ "to the 
 Manes" or souls of the departed, regarded as divine beings. 
 The Christian tombs omit these letters, though sometimes 
 through mere force of habit they seem to have been 
 carved by the sculptpr ; just as we still speak of the " ashes 
 of the dead," though we do not practise cremation. The 
 
 1 Northcote. *' Roma Sotteranea." 
 
THE CATACOMIIS. 33 
 
 Christian tombs are full of Iiojh'., and in tin's fullil the say- 
 ing of the apostle that " Christians are not to sorrow as 
 others, who are without hope." There is not much hope 
 on the Pagan tombs, though all that is all'ectionate and hu- 
 mane is there. They differ also from the Christian in that 
 they retain the idea of the dark underworld as the home 
 of the dead, while the Christian tombs show the faitli in 
 " going up " rather than in " going down." 
 
 " The bones of Nicen are buried here. Ye wiio live in the up- 
 per air, live on aud farewell. Hail ye below, receive Nicen." 
 
 " S.T.T.L." continually occurs — Sit tibi terra levis. 
 
 Passers-by are invited to salute the deceased. They are 
 begged to stop and repeat the above words. 
 
 Occasionally but very rarely, says Northcote, is there 
 some exhibition of ill-nature or bad taste. Some sj^eak 
 of the shortness of life. 
 
 " Life is a trifling gift." 
 
 " Live for the present hour, since we are sure of nothiug else." 
 
 " I have struggled for eighty years. Now 1 am quiet." 
 
 " Here I am, who was never hero before." 
 
 " 'J'ake heart ! No one lives forever." 
 
 " I lived as I liked, but I don't know why I died." 
 
 " You who read this, go bathe in the baths of Apollo close by. 
 I have done so with my wife often. I would now, if I could." 
 
 " Here it is. So it is. Nothiug else could be." 
 
 " Once I was not. Now I am not. I know nothiug about it, 
 aud it is no concern of mine." 
 
 " I was not. I am. 1 shall not be." 
 
 " Here I am ; and I am iK)t." 
 
 " I have restored everything committed to my trust. I have 
 not been quarrelsome. 1 have done all the good I could." 
 
 " I have never had any lawsuit. I have not quarrelled. I 
 have paid my debts. I have been faithful to my friends. I had 
 . a small fortune but a great mind." 
 
 3 
 
34 EVENTS AND EPOCHS IN RELIGIOUS HISTORY. 
 
 " I lift my hands against the gods who took me away at the 
 age of twenty though I had done no harm." 
 
 "The fates judged ill when they robbed me of my boy." 
 
 One wdio lost in one day his wife, child, brother,- sister, and 
 nephew, says : " The angry gods gave all five in one day to an 
 everlasting sleep." 
 
 Mothers burst into passionate lamentations and say they are 
 "most miserable," "most unfortunate." 
 
 One father, w^lio lost his daughter by an accident, desires to be 
 buried with her. 
 
 Sometimes of a child it is said that he died young because 
 the gods loved him, 
 
 " Our hope was in our boy ; now all is grief and ashes." 
 
 One boy of 15 is called ^^^^er revereutissimus. 
 
 A little girl of seven, — " Obedient to her mother ; pleasing 
 to all." Matri obediens, placita omnibus. 
 
 " Most innocent soul," — for an infant. 
 ' A girl of nine, — "Of singular beauty, of most affectionate 
 manners, and learning all things well." 
 
 A boy of sixteen is said " to have surpassed old men in 
 wisdom." 
 
 " When my daughter Lyda died, the model of beauty per- 
 ished. Strangers who pass, fill with tears the hollow recess in 
 this marble ! " 
 
 There are examples of epitaphs on wives and husbands 
 which make ns agree with Northcote in thinking it a pity 
 that Juvenal's cynical view of Roman virtue should be 
 more generally accepted than that of Pliny the Younger. 
 The epitaphs confirm the more favorable view of Eoman 
 manners. 
 
 Juvenal describes divorce as easy and very common. 
 He tells of a lady who had eight husbands in five years. 
 
 Tiie epitaphs, on the other hand, speak of marriages 
 which lasted fifteen, twenty, thirty, forty, fifty, and sixty- 
 eight years ; and these, " without any quarrel," " with no 
 
THE CATAC0MI5S. 35 
 
 ill-will," "without giving or taking ofTence," "without 
 strife," "without wrath or bitterness," 
 
 'J'he wunuuily virtues are reeognized on these Pagan 
 monuments. " JModesty," " chastity," " prudence," " dili- 
 gence in the household," " industry," and " gentleness," are 
 applied to lioman wives and mothers, as in the following 
 instances : — 
 
 "She never gave a had word to her husband." 
 
 " I never had to complain of her in anything." 
 
 " She never pained me except by her death." 
 
 " Though dead, she will always be alive to me, and always 
 fjolden in my eyes." 
 
 " I loved her better than myself, and nothing could part us 
 but death." 
 
 "She was chaste, modest, irreproachable, a mother to all 
 the world ; she came to the help of all who were needy." 
 
 A wife says of her husband that though they had loved 
 each other since they were boy and girl, they had only 
 been married a short time ; and she begs the Manes to 
 take good care of her husband and be kind to him ; to 
 allow her to see him in her dreams and soon to rejoin him ; 
 all of which shows the instinct of inmiortality. 
 
 " When I lost thee, my husband, I lost the sweet light at 
 the same time." 
 
 Friendship also appears on these Pagan monuments : — 
 
 "Aulus Mcmmius Urbanus to Aulus Memmius Clarus, my 
 dearest fellow-freedman. Between me and thee, my most ex- 
 cellent fellow-freedman, there has never been a dispute. We 
 first met in the slave-market ; we received our liberty in the 
 same house ; and nothing but this fatal day could separate us." 
 
 The Pagan toml)stones are " without hope " ; not that 
 they are without faith in another life, but that they are 
 
36 EVENTS AND EPOCHS IN UELIGIOUS HISTORY. 
 
 without faith in a hujlicr life. They certainly show a long- 
 ing for another life, and also an instinctive faith that their 
 friends still live. 
 
 The change apparent in the Christian inscriptions is not 
 that they are so much more affectionate, but that tliey speak 
 without doubt of the hereafter, and of a good hereafter. 
 
 Of course we find occasional exceptions. Some of the 
 old Pagan thoughts and phrases, as is natural, reappear ; 
 but the general tone is very difl'erent. 
 
 Cyprian, Bishop of Cathage, A. D. 250, uses the expres- 
 sion, " Not lost, but gone before ; " non amitti, sal 'prc(i- 
 mitti. 
 
 I will add a few more specimens of Christian epitaphs. 
 
 The early ones were very simple : — " In peace," " In 
 Christ," " He sleeps," " In hope," etc. 
 
 " To dearest Cyriacus, sweetest son. Mayst thou live in the 
 Holy Spirit." 
 
 ''Jesus Christ, Son of God, Savior. To Pastor, a good and 
 innocent son, who lived four years, five months, and twenty-six 
 days. Vitalio and Marcellina, his j^arents.'' 
 
 " In eternal sleep, Arelius Gemellus. . . . His mother made 
 this for her dearest, well-deserving son." 
 
 " Lady Bassilla, we commend to thee our daughter Crescen- 
 tina, who lived ten months." 
 
 " Matronata Matrona. A year and fifty-two days. Pray for 
 thy parents." 
 
 " Anatolius to his well-deserving son. May thy spirit rest in 
 God. Pray for thy sister." 
 
 " Regina, mayst thou live in the Lord Jesus." 
 
 " To my sweetest husband. . . . Live in God." 
 
 " To my well-deserving wife. May God refi-esh thy spirit." 
 
 *' Sweet Faustina, may'st thou live in God." 
 
 " Refresh, God, his soul. Bolosa, may God refresh thee. 
 Agape, live forever. Thy spirit is in peace." 
 
 " Victorina, in peace and in Christ." 
 
THK CATACOMUS. 37 
 
 Sucli prayers to the dead are not to the dead but to 
 the livin^^% — to iViends who have gone on a little further, 
 and whose continued love and help they asked, believing 
 they had not forgotten tliem. And these prayers for the 
 dead are also prayers for the living. For when we reject 
 that sweeping division which sends every one at death into 
 heaven or hell, tlie Christian immediately feels that his 
 departed friends are only a little way above us ; not so far 
 but that we may help them with our prayers and com- 
 mune with them through Crod. We need not be praying 
 them out of purgatory. There is no evidence that the 
 early Christians believed in purgatory. But they thought 
 they had as much right to ask a blessing from God 
 iov their friends who had gone on, as for those who 
 were l)y their side. These prayers are simply proofs of 
 tlie lirm faith they liad in a continued existence after 
 death. 
 
 The frequent prayers for " refreshment " for the departed 
 also show that they were considered to be not yet perfectly 
 happy ; at least that they were capable of receiving comfort 
 and help. 
 
 Sometimes they prayed for " light " for their departed 
 friends, which hints at the belief of the heathen in a dark 
 underworld. 
 
 One Pagan epitaph says : — 
 
 " Traveller, curse me not as you pass, for I am in darkness, 
 and cannot answer." 
 
 Another : — 
 
 " Here I lie in darkness, unhappy girl." 
 
 The Christian epitaphs say : — 
 
 " Lord ! let not the soul of Venera be in darkness." 
 " May my mother rest well, Light of the dead." 
 
38 EVENTS AND EPOCHS IN RELIGIOUS HISTORY. 
 
 § 4. Belief of the Early Christians as deduced from the 
 Catacomhs. — The interesting question with which we close 
 our inquiry into the history of the Catacombs is, What 
 is their testimony concerning the belief of the early Chris- 
 tians, and concerning the great controversies which have 
 divided Christendom ? 
 
 These controversies are of two kinds : first, ecclesiastical ; 
 secondly, doctrinal. There is a great church system which 
 claims to be the original and only true Church of Christ, 
 oat of which there is no salvation. What do the Cata- 
 combs testify as to the existence of such a church in the 
 first three centuries ? We have two authorities, both Eo- 
 man Catholic and both of the highest kind in regard to 
 this subject; the Italian, Rossi, and the Englishman, 
 Xorthcote. Their works are of commanding authority, and 
 they cannot be supposed to have any bias against their 
 own church. Rossi has examined 17,000 Christian tombs 
 of the first three centuries. Northcote has carefully fol- 
 lowed him in this examination. .Now it is true, as 
 Northcote remarks, that men do not write their creed on 
 their tombstones ; but it is also true, as he admits, that 
 out of the vast number of inscriptions, paintings, symbols, 
 there ous^ht to be some allusions to those beliefs which to 
 them were essential and vital. For example, the Apostle 
 Peter appears many times on the walls of the Catacombs. 
 If the early Roman Christians believed in the primacy of 
 Peter as modern Roman Catholics believe it, we might ex- 
 pect to find one or more pictures of Christ giving Peter 
 the keys, or of Peter represented as the rock on which the 
 church is built. Neither of these is found. Fourteen 
 pictures of the Deuial of Peter (known by the cock at his 
 side) are there, and twenty pictures of his arrest. He is 
 fretpiently represented as standing on one side of Christ, 
 and Paul on the other. In no single picture is he distin- 
 
THE CATACOMBS. 39 
 
 giiished above the other apostles ; which seems impossible 
 if the early Christians had regarded him as the Vicar of 
 Christ and head of the church. 
 
 Nor is there evidence in these tombs of the adoration of 
 the Virgin Mary. She appears in pictures of the wise men 
 bringing presents to the infant Jesus, but only as the 
 mother who must be with her babe. In no early picture 
 does she appear as the principal subject. One such, in 
 which Dr. Northcote thought there was a Virgin Mary alone, 
 praying, turned out to be a martyr, from the plumhata, or 
 leaden scourge, by her side. The earliest Madonna is in an 
 arcofioliuni in the Cemetery of St. Agnes of about 431, as 
 Martigny says ; and in this she is not being prayed to, 
 but is herself in the attitude of prayer, with a simple 
 veil on her head, and without the nimbus given to saints 
 and angels. 
 
 Charles Isidore Hemans, the son of the poetess, became 
 a Roman Catholic, as he says of himself, " led by his stud- 
 ies, sympathies, and perhaps aesthetic tastes." He says 
 that he went to Rome expecting to find ample and irrefu- 
 table evidence to the primeval origin and inspired truths of 
 all the modern Roman Church teaches. He tells us that 
 the first shock he received was on finding, in one of the 
 oldest mural pictures in a Roman church, Peter and Paul 
 seated as equals on each side of Christ. The impression 
 then received, he adds, " led me to further research, with 
 ripened judgment and wider experience, till, influenced 
 by the records of primitive faith, I was brought to the 
 conviction tliat tlie papacy, though often useful, was a 
 merely human system." The study of the Catacombs in 
 Rome took Mr. Hemans out of the Church of Rome, back 
 to that of England. He found in the paintings there 
 Peter and Paul as equals ; the Virgin Mary not as an 
 objtvt of adiiration, but as a pure and sweet hnniiin 
 
40 EVENTS AND EPOCHS IN RELIGIOUS HISTORY. 
 
 mother. From such negative testimony we have no right 
 indeed to infer the falsehood of a system, but this only, 
 that it did not hold any essential place in the mind of the 
 early Christians. 
 
 The same fact is true concerning those doctrines of 
 theology which afterwards were regarded as of supreme 
 importance, — such for example, as the Trinity, the Atone- 
 ment, the Last Judgment, Satan, and punishments in the 
 underworld. Jesus is nowhere represented as one of the 
 persons of the Trinity, but as a young man with sweet 
 expression of face ; — as the Good Shepherd ; or as Orpheus 
 with his lyre, subduing nature ; as feeding the multi- 
 tude ; curing the paralytic man ; raising Lazarus from the 
 dead ; as a fish ; as a lamb ; as healing the sick woman; talk- 
 ing with the woman of Samaria ; entering into Jerusalem. 
 This was the faith of the early Christians. Christ was to 
 them the good shepherd, the true vine, the bread which 
 fed the soul ; who could cure all suffering and all woe, who 
 was able to raise the dead, and who would come again in 
 triumph. Thus far their theology went and no farther. 
 And was not their faith enough, since it enabled them to 
 die for it ? 
 
 We ought, however, to state that Mr. Northcote be- 
 lieves he has found allusions to the Trinity on the early 
 tombs. What he gives us as proof does not seem very 
 conclusive. 
 
 He says, " We find distinct mention of the first two per- 
 sons of the Trinity " in an epitaph which says " In God 
 and in Christ." Then he says that the third person of the 
 Blessed Trinity is not absent from these epitaphs, for while 
 on some stones we read " In Christ," on others we read 
 " In the Holy Spirit of God." But he gives no example of 
 the tliree names being used together, nor of the words 
 TrinitV; Triune, Threefold, nor any similar expression, 
 
Platk IV 
 
 Fig. 1. Sarcophagus of the H^h Century. 
 
 Fig. 2. Sarcophagus of the IYth or Vth Century 
 

THE CATACOMBS. 41 
 
 being found in the Catacombs before the fifth century. 
 The nearest approach which he discovers to the mention 
 of the three persons of the Trinity is on a tombstone of 
 the fourth century, and the expression which satisfies him 
 is this : 
 
 In D.D. et Spirito Sancto ; 
 
 "' In the Lord God and the Holy Spirit." 
 
 He thinks the first B. stands for Deus, God, and means 
 the Father ; the second B. for Dominus, Lord, and means 
 the Son ; and thus we have Father, Son, and Spirit, at least 
 mentioned together, even though nothing be said of their 
 being coequal and coeternal. But as D.D., Lord God, 
 may simply mean the Supreme Being, and probably does, 
 this proof is certainly not strong. But it is the strong- 
 est that this Roman Catholic writer can find amoncr the 
 17,000 inscriptions which he has examined of the first 
 four centuries, in proof of a belief in the Trinity during 
 that period. The fact that there is no evidence on these 
 tombs of the supremacy of Peter, the worship of the Vir- 
 gin Mary, or the doctrine of the Atonement, is no proof 
 tliat these may not have been believed ; but it surely is 
 proof that none of these dogmas held the first place in 
 Christian thought, that no such merely doctrinal opinion 
 was considered vital ; otherwise it is impossible that 
 among 17,000 inscriptions from the first four centuries, and 
 from a vast number of paintings in the Catacombs, there 
 should not even be an allusion to the doctrines held to 
 be so essential in later times. 
 
 Another fact indicating the tone of early Christianity, is 
 that no titles are found in the early inscriptions, nor any 
 distinction of rank like those so numerous on Pagan monu- 
 ments. In the latter we find constantly servus, " slave," 
 lihertus, " freedman," and the like ; but out of eleven 
 
42 EVENTS AND EPOCHS IN RELIGIOUS HISTORY. 
 
 thousand Christian inscriptions, there are not more than 
 six in which allusion is made to rank or condition. 
 
 But the words alumnus, alumni, " foundling," " found- 
 lings," are numerous, showing the care of such waifs to 
 have been an act of charity to wdiich the Christians were 
 much addicted. " This monument," says one inscription, 
 " was erected to him by his alumnus." 
 
 Charity rather than theology, works rather than faith, 
 character and not creed, are recorded on these primeval 
 records of original Christianity. One is said to be " well- 
 deserving " ; another to have been " the friend of all," amicus 
 omnium ; another " the friend of the poor," amator pau- 
 perum. A child is called " a sweet and innocent soul " ; 
 another "a little innocent," parvulus innocens ; another 
 "a lamb of God," agnellus Dei; another "an innocent 
 lamb," agnella innocens ; another " a dove without gall," 
 palumha sine felle. An infant two years old is said 
 to have died "in his father's arms." Of husbands and 
 wives it is said that they were "always harmonious," 
 " with no discord of soul," " without a quarrel," — semper 
 Concordes, sine lesione animi, sine ulld querela. Of a wife 
 her husband records that " during fifteen years, she never 
 hurt my heart." 
 
 The system of early Christianity was eminently practi- 
 cal therefore. The doctrinal allusions are few. Belief in 
 one God was a vital doctrine of the early Christians. They 
 were known as " worshippers of God." No polytheistic ex- 
 pression occurs in their inscriptions. The Deity is always 
 " God," never " the gods." 
 
 In regard to Christ, their belief was summed up in their 
 favorite symbol of the fish. IXGT^, the Greek word for 
 " fish," contains the five letters which compose the initials 
 of the favorite designation of Christ, 'It^o-oO? Xpicrro^, Seov 
 'Tl6^, ^(OTtjp, " Jesus Christ, Son of God, the Savior." This 
 
THE CATACOMBS. 43 
 
 was the substance of their creed concerning Jesus, viz. : 
 (1) That he was the Christ, the King, come to reign over 
 all mankind; (2) that he was the Son, dwelling always 
 in the bosom of the Father ; (3) that his office was to save 
 all mankind from sin and misery. 
 
 We sometimes also find Jesus designated as 'IxOv<; 
 ^wuTCDv, " Fish of the living." The meaning of this seems 
 evident enough, though I notice that Mr. Northcote has 
 not perceived it. As " fish " means " Jesus Christ, Son of 
 God, Savior," — if we add "of the living," we have "Jesus 
 Christ, Son of God, Savior of the living." This probably 
 refers to the Christian doctrine of immortality as given 
 l)y Jesus when he said that " God was the God of the living." 
 Some other inscrii)tions, indicating the same faith ia im- 
 mortality, are added below : — 
 
 Fatuni fecit; " She fulfilled her destiny." 
 " I have rendered to the Lord of the universe the debt com- 
 mon to all." 
 
 These two have nothing specially Christian ; but the fol- 
 lowing could not have been put on a Pagan tomb : — 
 
 Dormitio Elpidis ; "The sleeping-place of Elpis." 
 
 Dormit sed vivit ; " He sleeps but lives." 
 
 QuiescAt ill Domino Jesu ; " He rests in the Lord Jesus." 
 
 Ivit ad Deum ; " He has gone to God." 
 
 Evocatus a Domino ; " Sent for by God." 
 
 Accepta apud Deum; "Accepted with God." 
 
 Corpus habet tellus, animam celestia regna ; 
 
 " The earth holds his body, the heavenly realm his soul." 
 
 Mens nescia mortis vivit, et aspectu fruitur bene conscia Christi ; 
 " The mind, unconscious of death, lives ; and, quite conscious, 
 enjoys the sight of Christ." 
 
 We have thus seen the history of the Roman Catacombs 
 during five periods. The first was when they were simply 
 
44 EVENTS AND EPOCHS IN RELIGIOUS HISTORY. 
 
 underground cemeteries where Christians could deposit 
 their dead side by side, under the protection of Eoman 
 hxw. Then, during the martyr-age of the Church, they 
 were places of refuge and secret shrines for worship; 
 where, however, the Koman soldiers often pursued the 
 worshippers, inflicting tortures and death. Again, after 
 Christianity became triumphant under Constantino, came 
 a period when the Catacombs were visited by numberless 
 pilgrims, were decorated with sculpture and painting, and 
 in which the forgotten graves were found, and made objects 
 of adoration. Then came long centuries, after the barbari- 
 ans conquered Eome, in which the Catacombs were deserted 
 and forgotten. And lastly, there is a fifth period, extend- 
 ing to the present time, when the scientific spirit of our 
 age, with its impartial love of truth, studies carefully every 
 mark and sign of the past, and restores the original features 
 of a long-buried Christianity. As the earth is cleared 
 away from the tombs, so also are the human corruptions, 
 which have been heaped up over the primitive gospel, 
 cleared away at the same time, and we have the joyful 
 features restored to us of the original cliildlike spirit of 
 the first church. 
 
 Though there are no places on earth so gloomy as the 
 Catacombs to the eye of sense, there is hardly any place so 
 full of joy to the eye of the soul. The long passages of the 
 Mammoth Cave, in Kentucky, are dark with eternal night. 
 Into them no ray of sunshine has ever entered. There the 
 eye sees only what God has made ; the torches illuminate 
 sparkling crystals, magnificent stalactites and stalagmites, 
 and silent rivers. In the catacombs we walk surrounded by 
 open graves, half-decayed bones, ruined chapels, and me- 
 morials of innocent victims exposed to torture and denth. 
 But as we study the simple inscriptions and sj^rabols, there 
 grows up in the mind a sense of cheerfulness and hope. 
 
THE CATACOMBS. 45 
 
 Tlic'se persecuted Christ iaii.s had a perpetual peace iu 
 thi'ir hearts. No bitter controversies concerning the 
 nature of the godhead had yet arisen to disturb the love 
 tl ley had for each other. No dogmatic disputes led them 
 away from the gospel of joy. Jesus was to them brother, 
 helper, savior, friend, going before tlieui l)ut walking with 
 them. They felt perfectly safe wliilo near liim. They 
 were not troubled about sacraments or ritual, or the ques- 
 tion, " Which is the true Church, out of which is no salva- 
 tion?" Where the love of Christ was, there was the 
 Catholic and universal church. Nor were they much dis- 
 turbed about their sins, or future suffering. They had 
 been washed from their sins and cleansed from un- 
 righteousness by the heavenly love. Tliey liad turned 
 their backs on hell, and were walking straight towards 
 heaven. Thus the pliysical gloom of the Catacombs is dis- 
 pelled by a light which " never shone on sea or land," a 
 light shining inwardly in the soul ; and there too, — 
 
 " Death seems but a covered way 
 That opens into light, 
 Wherein no blinded child can stray 
 Beyond the Father's sight. 
 
 " And so the shadows fall apart, 
 And so the sunbeams play ; 
 And all the chanibei-s of their heart 
 They open to the day I " 
 
46 EVENTS AND EPOCHS IN RELIGIOUS HISTORY. 
 
 Ill 
 
 THE BUDDHIST MONKS OF CENTRAL ASIA. 
 
 § 1. Sakya-Muni and his religious system. — In the king- 
 dom of Oucle, in northern India, near Nepaul, about 623 
 years before Christ (as most authorities agree)/ there was 
 born a prince, son of one of the kings of that province. 
 In early life he left the luxuries of the royal court, and be- 
 came a hermit. The sight of the miseries and sins of the 
 world had made so profound an impression on his heart that 
 he found no comfort except in communing with God, and 
 in ascetic austerities. He, like all around him, was a be- 
 liever in the Hindoo gods, in the Vedas; and in the Brah- 
 manical faith. Brahmanism, as we find by the Laws of 
 Manu, encouraged the system of monachism, and recom- 
 mended the pursuit of holiness by a solitary life of self- 
 denial. This young man was, therefore, only following 
 the custom of the established religion, in becoming a her- 
 mit. He practised, during six years, amazing austerities ; 
 and then resumed his former life among men. He said : 
 " All things are transient but truth. Let me see the truth ; 
 then I shall save my own soul, and be able to save others 
 from the misery of change and death 1 " His one object, 
 therefore, was to know the truth, in order to help others. 
 
 1 J. W. Rhys Davids (Buddhist Suttas), in Max Miiller's "Sacred 
 Books of the East," maintains that the date of Buddha's birth is much 
 later, and fixes it about 500 B.C. Consequently he made his death, eighty 
 years later, to have occiuTed 420 B. C. 
 
KkJ. 1. CLOISTKRS at A.IUXTA 
 
 Fig. 2. General View of Rock-cut Caves at Ajvnta. 
 
TIIK BUDDHIST MONKS OF CENTRAL ASIA. 47 
 
 The name of this young man was Siddartha; which 
 means "The fulfihucnt of every wish." He was also 
 called Sakya-Muiii, or " The hermit of the race of Sakya." 
 The name Luddha, afterward given to him, denotes liis 
 oftice, and means " The One who Knows," or " The Wide- 
 Awake One." 
 
 Satisfied lliat perfection was not to be attained by aus- 
 terities, and tindin«f no satisfaction in what the Brahmans 
 could teach, he went down into the depths of his own 
 soul and at last came to a solid conviction, a perfect 
 knowledge, as he believed, of the laws of being. The spot 
 where, after a week of constant meditation, he at last ar- 
 rived at tliis beatific vision, became one of the most sacred 
 places in India. He was seated under a Bo-tree {ficus 
 rdigiosa), his face to the east, not having moved for a day 
 and niglit, when he attained the triple science which was 
 to rescue man from his woes. Twelve hundred years after 
 his death a pilgrim from China was shown what then 
 passed for the same sacred tree, surrounded by to;pes and 
 monasteries.^ 
 
 Having attained to this settled conviction, Sakya-Muni 
 went out to preach. He considered his mission to be 
 not to those already on their way to the truth, who did not 
 need him, nor to those fixed in error, whom he could not 
 lielp, — but to the doubters, to the seekers, to those with- 
 out faith. At Benares, the sacred city of the Brahmans, 
 he made his first converts, *' turning the wheel of the law." 
 
 1 The bo-ircc of Ceylon, also called the pcepul in India, is a species of 
 fig, and is held sacred by the Brahmans as well as the Buddhists. It 
 attiiins a great age and size. One in Ceylon, described by Sir Emerson 
 Tenneut, was planted 288 B.C., and was therefore (in 1859) 2,147 years 
 old. Historic documents of different dates, from A.D. 182 down to the 
 present time, describe and identify it. It is regarded as possessing won- 
 deiful sanctity, and to have come from a shoot of the tree under which 
 Sakya-Muni sat when he attained Nirvana. 
 
48 EVENTS AND EPOCHS IN RELIGIOUS HISTORY. 
 
 He converted great numbers to his doctrines, and died at 
 the age of eighty. In the belief of his followers he then 
 became the Supreme Buddha, Lord of the Universe. 
 
 In the year of his death, 543 B.C., the first convocation 
 of his disciples was held, to fix definitely the main points 
 of his doctrine. A second and third convocation were held 
 453 B.C. and 255. B.C. 
 
 Around these simple facts soon arose a vast mass of 
 legends concerning the Buddha. How much truth or error 
 they contain cannot now be ascertained. ^ 
 
 Our Great Master has said : " The tree is known by its 
 fruits ; " and no wiser maxim can be found than this. We 
 may judge Buddha by Buddhism, and seek the nature of 
 the fountain in the stream which flows from it. It may 
 have contracted many impurities on its way, but the per- 
 manent qualities will teach us something of the source. 
 
 The doctrines of Buddhism are that all men are equal; 
 that there should be no distinctions of caste ; that all events 
 are ooverned bv universal and unchansfingj laws ; that who- 
 ever obeys these laws ascends in the scale of being to 
 something better ; that whoever disobeys them descends to 
 something worse ; that the highest condition is that in 
 which men escape from vicissitude and change ; and that 
 conduct determines destiny. Whoever has read the little 
 book of Mr. George Combe, called "The Constitution of 
 Man," will find therein the essence of the moral system of 
 
 * The Buddha wrote nothing himself; but the substance of his teaching 
 was reduced to writing by the council of his followers, held after his death. 
 This is the foundation of the Buddhist canon, which is in three parts, 
 forming the trijntiJca, or "triple basket of the law." The first contains 
 the discourses of the Buddha, the second tlie discipline, the third the 
 metaphysics. The other councils, not later than 240 B.C., revised and 
 expounded these scriptures. Missionaries carried the faith to Ceylon 
 307 B.C. The Chinese annals sjpeak of a Buddhist missionary in that 
 country 217 B.C. 
 
THE BUDDHIST MONKS OF CENTRAL ASIA. 49 
 
 lUuldlia. "Know the laws of tlie universe, and obey 
 tlieni," is the conclusion ol" the whole matter.^ 
 
 This humane and benevolent religion is perliaps the 
 most extensively received on earth. Three or four lum- 
 dred millions of human beings are believers in tlie religion 
 of liuddha. It prevails throughout all the Mongol races 
 of Eastern Asia. It is the popular religion of China, 
 Jajjan, Siam, Assam, Nepaul, Ceylon, Tartary, and the 
 state religion of Thibet and Burmah. 
 
 No doubt there are some great deficiencies in this religion 
 which have prevented it from develoi)ing a civilization of 
 freedom and haw in any state, and which make Buddhist 
 nations so far behind Europe in progress, science, and art ; 
 but of these defects I will not now speak. 
 
 The peculiarity of tlie Buddhist priesthood is that it 
 consists wholly of monks. There are no clergy in Bud- 
 
 1 The opposition of the Buddhists to the whole sy.stem of caste was the 
 chief caiLse of the hostility of the Brahmans. After Brahmanism and 
 Buddhism had lived side by side for ten centuries, the latter was expelled 
 from nearly every part of India e.xcept Ceylon. "We know nothing of the 
 history of this sudden and extraordinary decay of Buddhism in India. 
 
 The account which the sacred hooks of the Brahmans give of Buddhism 
 is ver}' ingenious. They say that Vischnu established it by his ninth 
 Avatar. In those days the Asuras, or demons, were making themselves 
 very powerful under Divodasa, by means of th(;ir extraordinary piety, 
 virtue, and obedience to the Vedas. Indra and the gods of Swerga 
 (Heaven) were alarmed at this, and applied to Vischnu for aid. Brahma 
 had been compelled, by the ascetic piety of Divodasa, to promise that the 
 gods shouhl not exercise their power in his dominions. Vischnu, there- 
 fore, knowing that the Asuras could not be defeated while they continued 
 in the practice of piety, appeared, as Buddha, to preach against the Vedas, 
 and make them apostates, which he accomplished. 
 
 This story shows that the Brahmans were puzzled to account for tlic 
 holiness and power of Sakya-Muni, and hit on this adroit way of explain- 
 ing it. Buddha was Vischnu himself ; that was why lie was so holy ; 
 l)ut the religion he taught was a false one nevertheless. These Brahmans 
 could have given a lesson to the Pharisees. The preaching of Buddha 
 was from Heaven, and yet it ought not to be received. 
 
 4 
 
50 EVENTS AND EPOCHS IN RELIGIOUS HISTORY. 
 
 clhism corresijonding to the parish priests, or secular clergy, 
 of the Eomish Church. They are all members of monastic 
 orders, living usually in communities. 
 
 § 2. Father Hue's description of the Monasteries in Tar- 
 tar]) and Thibet. — Father Hue, a Eoman Catholic mis- 
 sionary, in his very entertaining account of his travels 
 through Tartary and Thibet, describes his surprise at his 
 first si^^ht of the vast and numerous Buddhist monasteries 
 in those regions. The first to which he came had in it 
 two thousand monks, or lamas; but afterward he reached 
 another where there were thirty thousand lamas, with an 
 abbot at their head whose power was so great that the 
 Emperor of China was constantly in fear of his influence 
 over the Tartar tribes. On his long and difficult journey 
 from Pekin to Lassa, exposed to frightful cold and fatigue, 
 and to the risk of starvation, with hardly any money, 
 Father Hue found himself hospitably received at the nu- 
 merous convents near his route. This Eoman priest was 
 one of those fortunate travellers who never lose their good 
 temper, however they may be ill treated, and are always 
 cheerful, no matter what hardships they may encounter. 
 Evidently wishing to find good in those he met, making 
 excuses for the faults of the people, and sympathizing 
 with their agreeable qualities, he and the Buddhist priests 
 became great friends. He tells us that the lamaseries, or 
 monasteries, of these regions, which follow the Thibet rule, 
 and are subject to the dalai-lama, or Buddhist Pope, at 
 Lassa, have great influence over the Tartars of this wild 
 region. Father Hue owed his safety among these robbers 
 to his being regarded by them as a " holy lama " from the 
 West. Whenever a new monastery or temple was to be 
 built, the begging lamas were sent out in every direction, 
 going from tent to tent, and collecting large sums from the 
 people of Tartary, notwithstanding their poverty. " In 
 
THE BUDDHIST MONKS OF CENTRAL ASIA. 51 
 
 tliese deserts," he says, " edifices are reared as if Ijy 
 encliantment, whose grandeur and opulence would defy 
 the resources of the wealthiest potentates." They are built 
 of brick or stone, the temples solid, and often elegant; 
 and the idols are not horrid monsters, but have regular 
 European features, and a pleasant expression. The con- 
 vent of Kouren, which has thirty thousand lamas, covers 
 the whole side of a mountain, and contains a collection of 
 temples ; with white cells for the monks, in horizontal 
 lines, one above the other, resembling, at a distance, a vast 
 stairway. Innumerable tents below contain the pilgrims 
 wlio are always arriving and departing. Tlie chief lama 
 of this convent is called the fjuison-tamha ; and a visit 
 whicli this abbot once made to the Emperor of China, 
 though his retinue was limited to three thousand lamas, 
 stirred all Tartary witli an emotion which gave no little 
 alarm to tlie Court at Pekin. The largest part of the 
 lamas live in communities ; but another part, after pur- 
 suing their studies in convents, return home, and are a 
 kind of out-door priests. And another portion are per- 
 petual wanderers, vagabond priests, who are always migra- 
 toiy, moving about at random, without aim or purpose, and 
 depending for their support on the never-failing hospitality 
 of the Tartars. They visit all Buddhist lands, — China, 
 Mantchooria, Thibet, Tartary. " Tliere is not a river they 
 liave not crossed, not a mountain tliey have not ascended, 
 no Grand Lama before wdiom they have not bowed down." 
 They cannot lose their way, since all ways are alike to 
 them. Tliey are like the Wandering Jew; they seem 
 pushed forwaid \\y some invisilde power wliich will not 
 allow tliem tn rest. At least they sliow how easy it is for 
 the human being to acquire the habit of perpetual motion, 
 and to lose .all desire for a home. 
 
 Father Hue made a long stay in the great monastery of 
 
52 EVENTS AND EPOCHS IN RELIGIOUS HISTORY. 
 
 Kounboum, near the northwest corner of China. After 
 entertaining him three months without cost, they told him 
 that the rules of their convent required that, if he wished 
 to stay longer, he must wear the yellow robe of the lama. 
 He declined, from religious considerations. Then they 
 said that, since the rules of his holy and sublime religion 
 did not permit this concession, they would give him a 
 home at another convent, near by, where he could be per- 
 fectly comfortable and pursue his studies. In this smaller 
 retreat the monks led a pastoral life, keeping herds of cat- 
 tle and flocks of sheep ; except a few anchorites who lived 
 alone, each in a cave on the side of the mountain, spend- 
 ing their hours in contemplation, prayer, or harmless sleep. 
 Like the European monasteries, the situations selected for 
 these Buddhist lamaseries are highly picturesque, and often 
 of enchanting beauty. 
 
 The Buddhist monks take the same three vows which 
 are imposed on all the orders of Christian monks — namely, 
 of poverty, chastity, and obedience ; but while only a few of 
 the monastic orders in the Roman Catholic Church are men- 
 dicants — as, for instance, the Franciscans and Dominicans 
 — all the Buddhist priests are monks, and nearly all are 
 mendicants. They go out every day, stopping for a minute 
 in silence before each house, and receiving the rice which 
 may be put into the bowl which they carry. If none is 
 given to them, they go on in silence to the next house. 
 This is done when they are near cities or towns ; but 
 when, like Father Hue's hospitable entertainers, they are 
 far from any surrounding population, they are allowed, it 
 seems, to support themselves by pastoral and agricultural 
 labors. 
 
 One of the great lamaseries in Chinese Tartary, where 
 Father Hue was entertained, is described by him thus. 
 He arrived in the place at nine o'clock in the evening, and 
 
TIIK BUDDHIST MONKS OF CKNTRAL ASIA. 53 
 
 was met l)y four lamas, of whom he says that their red 
 sraif, their yellow cap shaped like a mitre, their grave 
 iiHinners and low voices, made on him a profound impres- 
 sion. "They seemed," said he, "to waft towards us the 
 lucatli of a monastic religious life. In order not to dis- 
 turb the deep silence which liushed tlie place, the bells on 
 the horses were stufl'ed with straw. Slowly and without 
 speaking tliey ])assed along those calm and deserted 
 streets." Tiiis .solemn and majestic silence, as he calls it, 
 was only intermitted by the lioUow and melancholy sound 
 (la inMu, which marked the watches of the night. 
 
 He here inhabited a house lent to liim without charge 
 liy its owner, wlio was one of tliese peaceful monks. It con- 
 tained large rooms, a kitclien with cooking utensils, and a 
 stable for liis horse and mule. Hereupon the good IJoman 
 Catholic e.xclaims: "How powerful is religion over the 
 lieart cf man, even when it is a false religion ! What a 
 difference between these lamas, so hospitable, generous, 
 and brotherly in their treatment of strangers, and the 
 C(Jvetous Chinese, wlio even demand payment of the trav- 
 eller for a glass of water ! " The lamas helped him move 
 into his house, carrying liis baggage on their shoulders; 
 swept liis rooms, liglited his fire, got ready the stable, and 
 iiiiished by giving liim a dinner. 
 
 Four festivals are kept every year in this convent, to 
 which pilgrims come in vast numbers. One is called the 
 Feast of Flowers. On this occasion a lari^^e number of 
 colossal figures of men, animals, and plants are displayed, 
 ill manufactured for the occasion out of fresh butter, 
 moulded and painted so as to resemble life. Three months 
 are occupied in preparing this display. Some of the lamas 
 are artists who work on the designs ; others mix and 
 knead the butter, in a ])eculiar way, to make it firm ; 
 others model it into the proper shapes; and others add the 
 
54 EVENTS AND EPOCHS IN RELIGIOUS HISTORY. 
 
 colors. Of course tliis is done in cold weather. When 
 the day arrives, the flowers are shown placed on scaffold- 
 ings in the open air in the evening, and are beautifully 
 illuminated by innumerable lamps. Father Hue was sur- 
 prised at the high artistic skill displayed in these figures. 
 They were full of animation, the attitudes natural, the 
 costumes graceful. The furs of animals, the feathers of 
 birds, the wool of sheep, were so well executed that they 
 seemed as real as life. Wherever the head of Buddha 
 appeared it was not in the Tartar type of face, but in that 
 of the Hindoo Aryan ; wdth noble and majestic features, 
 tlie hair lono- and wavinj]^. When the Grand Lama of the 
 convent came forth to head the procession, accompanied 
 by his high dignitaries. Father Hue was astonished to find 
 him dressed like a Eoman Catholic bishop ; with a mitre on 
 his head, a crozier in his hand, and a violet mantle on his 
 shoulders, exactly in the form of a cope. 
 
 One feature which distinguishes Buddhism is its intense 
 interest in knowledge. It is the intellect seeking for 
 knowledge. Buddha is a word signifying the Knowing 
 One. In this respect Buddhism is the " Protestantism of 
 Asia," a name I gave it in my work on " Ten Great Ee- 
 ligions ;" a name justified, also, as I shall show directly, by 
 other essential characteristics. 
 
 Protestantism in Europe was an awakening of the intel- 
 lect. It included a demand for the rights of individual 
 opinion and inquiry. Xow observe what Father Hue tells 
 us of the system of the lamas at Kounboum. 
 
 "The lamas are regarded as students during all tlieir 
 lives, for religious science is believed to be inexhaustible. 
 Tiiey are distributed into four Faculties. 1. The Faculty 
 of Mystical knowledge, or rules for a life of contemplation. 
 2. The Faculty of the Liturgy, or study of religious ceremo- 
 nies. 3. The Faculty of Medicine ; having for its object 
 
THE BUDDHIST MuNKS UF CENTRAL ASIA. 55 
 
 the four hundred and forty diseases of the human body, 
 with the materia mcdica, and methods of cure. 4. The 
 Faculty of Prayer ; which is the highest of all. There are 
 thirteen divisions or classes of books on prayer, each con- 
 taining numerous volumes. There are competitive exami- 
 nations for degrees and honors in this study. The victor 
 is mounted on the shoulders of the vanquished, and car- 
 ried in trium})]i to his home. These exercises take place 
 in a large hall, wliere the students sit on the ground ; and 
 the professors on a platform, ready to answer any ques- 
 tions which may be put to them. 
 
 A devout and wealtliy pilgrim to these monasteries will 
 often give a tea-party to the lamas ; and, as there are four 
 thousand in this one convent, the simplest " tea " cannot be 
 given for less than one hundred dollars. A king visiting 
 the convent will sometimes, during a week or more, give 
 a " tea " every day, with cakes and butter and a distribu- 
 tion of silver. 
 
 Some lamas occupy themselves, like the early Benedic- 
 tines, in copying books ; or, like the modern Benedictines 
 of St. Maur, in writing and printing theological works. 
 
 One of the benevolent practices of these good monks 
 was to furnish horses for way travellers. Tlieir method of 
 doing this charity was ingenious and economical. They 
 drew pictures of horses on pieces of paper, and then, going 
 to the top of a mountain on a windy day, they tossed them 
 into the air ; and, as they believed, they were borne by the 
 wind to the poor travellers in all parts of tlie world, and 
 there changed, by the power of Buddha, into real horses. 
 
 On an evening appointed for the purpose a great cere- 
 mony is j)erformed in order to drive away demons. From 
 all tlie houses along the sides of the mountain innumerable 
 lanterns are suspended, with red lights ; and the four 
 thousand lamas, seated on the roofs, chant wild prayers, 
 
56 EVENTS AND EPOCHS IN EELIGIOUS HISTORY. 
 
 blowing horns at intervals, and end by one great cry given 
 with terrific force. 
 
 The services in the churches of these convents must 
 have reminded Father Hue of his own ritual. A conch is 
 blown loudly three times for calling the monks. The 
 chief lama is seated on a kind of bishop's throne. The 
 monks make prostrations as they pass before liim. A lit- 
 tle bell tinkles, and then all begin to murmur their prayers 
 from a roll on their knees. The bell is rung again, and a 
 double choir chants a hymn, to a grave and harmonious 
 strain. The interior of the temple is adorned with paint- 
 ings and images like those of a Catholic church. 
 
 I once saw, in the Cathedral at Antwerp, an old man 
 going on his knees from one chapel and shrine to another, 
 stopping before each to repeat his prayers. A similar re- 
 ligious service is performed by the Tartar Buddhists. They 
 sometimes spend a whole day in going round on the out- 
 side of the temples, prostrating themselves at full length on 
 the ground at every step. This is done in the coldest 
 weather and in the nudst of terrible storms. Often, as an 
 additional penance, or to procure additional merit, they will 
 carry a great weight of sacred books on their backs. 
 
 But alleviations are sometimes found to make these 
 religious observances less onerous. As the pilgrim in the 
 story, who was ordered, as a penance, to walk a long dis- 
 tance with peas in his shoes, took the liberty of easing his 
 task by first boiling his peas, so the Buddhists have in- 
 vented their famous contrivance of prayer-mills, by which 
 to obtain the merit of prayer without the trouble of praying. 
 Father Hue saw many of these mills. They have a revolv- 
 ing wheel on which are pasted numerous prayers. Every 
 time it is turned it is considered that as much merit is 
 acquired as if all the prayers had been said aloud. Some- 
 times these wheels are put up by the side of the road, so 
 
THE BUDDHIST MONKS OF CENTRAL ASIA. 57 
 
 that a traveller may acquire merit by giving them a twirl 
 as he passes. A still more ingenious contrivance is to fill 
 a barrel lull of written prayers, say one thousand, and then 
 arrange it by the side of a brook, so that the water shall 
 turn it continually, niglit and day. In this way they can 
 easily acquire the merit of having said several millions of 
 l)rayers every day. 
 
 Some of the lamas told Father Hue that these ceremo- 
 nies were merely to anmse tlie ignorant. "These simple 
 Tartars," said lie, "need very simple rites. They could 
 not understand anything higher. Their docility and rev- 
 creiice is cultivated bv such practices. But the better 
 educated Buddhist knows that God is one and from all 
 eternity ; a spiritual substance who cannot be represented 
 by picture or statue. In one country he is called Buddha, 
 in another Fo ; elsewhere by other names. Your doctrine, 
 O lama of the western heavens, seems to me to be much 
 the same as ours." 
 
 The same opinion was entertained by the Regent of 
 I^assa, a very learned and religious man, who made Father 
 Hue explain to him the main principles of Christianity. 
 He maintained that the two religions were the same, with 
 the exception of two points, creation and metempsychosis. 
 Instead of ci'eation, he said that all was eternal proces- 
 sion. Sun and moon and earth and all things proceed 
 continually from Ihiddha, and return into him again by a 
 ])erpetual metempsychosis. The object of life is to escape 
 this metempsychosis, and be absorbed into Buddha. Thus 
 we see that this enlightened Buddhist was far from beini; 
 an atheist or a believer in annihilation, which his religion 
 is often supposed to teach. We have already seen that the 
 Buddhists have great faith in prayer ; and how can those 
 who pray be atheists ? They worship Buddha as a supreme 
 being who was once incarnate in the form of a man. 
 
58 EVENTS AND EPOCHS IN RELIGIOUS HISTORY. 
 
 There has been a succession of such Bucldhas, each in 
 turn becoming the supreme ruler of the universe, and then 
 retiring into the rest of Nirvana. This is not atheism; 
 nor is it, surely, a belief in annihilation to seek to be 
 absorbed into the Infinite Being. 
 
 At Lassa, Father Hue saw a touching practice which 
 pleased him, though it mortified him to think of the cities 
 of Europe where such a custom would be considered ab- 
 surd. Every evening, at sunset, the whole population, 
 men, women, and children, leave off their business and 
 assemble in the public squares and other places to pray 
 together. They sit on the ground, and each one slowly 
 chants his prayers in an undertone ; and this solemn har- 
 mony pervades the whole city. Wherever you are, you 
 hear this murmur, like the voice of many waters, rising on 
 the quiet air. And does it not reach the throne of God, if 
 sincere, just as certainly as if they addressed him as Jeho- 
 vah instead of calling him Buddha ? 
 
 § 8. Resemhlcmccs between the Buddhist and Bonian Catho- 
 lic rituals. — We have spoken at some length of the 
 Buddhist monasteries in Chinese Tartary and Thibet, thus 
 graphically described by our French missionary. Similar 
 convents are found in the other Buddhist countries, which 
 comprise the whole of Eastern Asia; notably, the Empires 
 of Japan and China, Mantchooria, Mongolia, Siam, Burmah, 
 Anam, Nepaul, and Ceylon. In these countries the Bud- 
 dhist priesthood are monks, differing from each other in their 
 rules and customs, as the Benedictines, Augustinians, Fran- 
 ciscans, and Jesuits differ, or as the Trappists differ from 
 tlie Sisters of Charity. All the Buddhist monks, like the 
 Christian monks, are bound by the three great vows of 
 poverty, chastity, and obedience, which they keep more or 
 less strictly. They escape from the vow of poverty, as 
 Christian monks have done, by amassing great wealth as 
 
THE BUDDHIST MONKS OF CENTRAL ASIA. 69 
 
 comiiuuiities, though not chiiniing any ownership as indi- 
 viduals. j\li'. S[)cnce Hardy tells us that the best lands in 
 Ceylon belong to the priesthood, just as in pAiropean coun- 
 tries the clergy came to own a third of the laud in many 
 kingdoms. This property belonging to the Buddhist tem- 
 ples is exemjjted from taxation, just as the clergy-lands in 
 Europe have been exemi)ted from taxation, liobert Knox, 
 a captive in Kandy, a city of Ceylon, in 1G50, says : " Unto 
 each of the pagodas there are great revenues of land, 
 allotted to them by former kings, which have much im- 
 paired the revenues of the Crown." He adds, curiously 
 enough, that " the farmers who hire these lands of the pa- 
 godas have a much easier time than others, and their taxes 
 are more light, so that they are envied by the others." 
 Just so, in Europe, those who occupied abbey-lands were 
 generally better treated than those who were the vassals of 
 feudal barons or kings. 
 
 In ihct, nothing in the homologons of history is more 
 striking than to see the same facts reproducing them- 
 selves in Asiatic Buddhism and European Christianity. All 
 Roman Catholic travellers in the East have been amazed at 
 finding the familiar customs of their church existing, from 
 time immemorial, among the Buddhists. A Portuguese 
 missionary. Father Bury, when he saw the Chinese bonzes 
 tonsured, using rosaries in prayer, saying their prayers in 
 an ancient language unknown to the people, and kneeling 
 before images, cried out : " There is not an article of dress, 
 or a saccM'dotal function, or a single ceremony of the Rom- 
 ish Church, which the Devil has not imitated in this 
 country." Mr. Davis speaks of the celibacy of the Bud- 
 dhist clergy, their monasteries and nunneries, their strings 
 of beads, their chanted prayers, their incense and censers, 
 and their candles lighted in the pagodas in daytime. Mr. 
 Medhurst, in his work on China, says he has frequently 
 
60 EVENTS AND EPOCHS IN RELIGIOUS HISTORY. 
 
 seen the image of a virgin, called " The Queen of Heaven," 
 having an infant in her arms, and holding a cross. In 
 Thibet, as we have said, there is a Dalai- Lama, who is, in 
 reality, a Buddhist Pope. The theory that the Buddhist 
 customs have been borrowed from Christianity cannot be 
 true, since many of them are older than Christianity. We 
 liave Hindoo dramas, written one or two centuries before 
 Clirist, in which the Buddhist mendicant monk appears, 
 asking alms, just as he does to-day. The worship of relics 
 is older than the time of Christ ; as appears from tlie fact 
 tlmt stupas, or topes, have been opened, and the relics of 
 Buddliist missionaries found, deposited therein at least 
 two hundred and twenty years before Christ, showing that 
 this relic worship belonged to the very earliest period of 
 the religion. 
 
 This phenomenon is so curions that I will state the facts 
 more fully. There is an historic work, written in Ceylon 
 about A.D. 460 or 470, which is based on still older histo- 
 ries. It was translated by Mr. Upham and by George 
 Turnour, and gives the most authentic account we have 
 of early Buddliism. TJiis book, the Malia-vxinso, men- 
 tions two missionaries, Kassapo and Madjima (or Mady- 
 hyama), who preached among the Himalaya mountains. 
 Their names, journeys, preachings, suherings, are described 
 in this history. And when, in 1851, the second Sanclii- 
 iopc was opened, by Major Cunningham, the relics of these 
 very missionaries, who lived two hundred years before 
 Christ, were found. The tope was a solid hemisphere, built 
 of stone, thirty-niue feet in diameter, with a basement six 
 ieet high projecting five feet around it, surrounded by a 
 stone railing, with sculptures. This tope had remained at 
 Bhilsa, in Central India, in a perfect condition, except 
 that it is overgrow^n with plants, for two thousand years. 
 On being opened there was discovered in the centre a sniall 
 
THE BUDDHIST MONKS OF CENTRAL ASIA. Gl 
 
 olmmber made of six stones. Inside of tliis was a relic-box 
 of wliite sandstone. Inside of this were f(jur caskets of 
 steatite, a sacreil stone among the lUuldhists, eacli containing 
 small portions of burnt liuman bones. On ihe lid of one 
 was inscrilieil : " Ilelics of tlie emancipated Kasyapa Gotra, 
 missionary t(> all Hemawanta;" on the other: " Kelics of 
 the emancipated jMadyhama." These relics had remained 
 in the tope since the age of Asoka, two hundred and lifty 
 years before Christ ; showing that the adoration of saints 
 and of their relics existed in iiuddhism in the third century 
 after its beginning, just as the adoration of the relics of 
 Christian martyrs l>egan in about the third or fourth century 
 of Christianity. 
 
 § 4. Fnscnptionfi of King Asoka, B. C. 27G. — The oldest 
 original documents that we possess in regard to Ihiddhism 
 arc thirteen in3{'ii])tions cut in the rock by order of Asoka, 
 who reigned thirty-six years from the year B.C. 27G ; that 
 is (if Sakya-Muni died B.C. 543) about two hundred and 
 sixty-seven years after the death of the Buddha. Of the 
 authenticity of these edicts St. Hilaire says there can be no 
 question. Several copies of them have been fouml en- 
 graven in different parts of India. Asoka, or Pi-ya-dosi, 
 dill for Buddhism what Constantine did for Christianity. 
 He made it the religion of the State, about three hundred 
 yeai*s after its origin.^ 
 
 These imperial edicts all have a moral character. They 
 are moral eonnnands, whieh must have been inspired by 
 Ids new faith. They forbid the killing of animals; they 
 command that wholesome fruit-trees, vegetables, and roots 
 be planted everywhere for the use of man; and wells dug and 
 shade trees planted along the roads for the comfort of men 
 and animals. Asoka declares that liberality is good ; not 
 
 1 See two of tln'se ]nllars in the illustrations of cave-temples at Karli 
 ami Klloi-a; pbito VIII. 
 
62 EVENTS AND EPOCHS IN RELIGIOUS HISTORY. 
 
 to injure living creatures is good; and to abstain from 
 slander and extravagance is good. He recommends the 
 loosing of the bonds of those who are bound, and the lib- 
 eration of captives. He appoints ministers of morality, 
 who shall everywhere inculcate moral duties, — duties to 
 parents, friends, children, relations, to Brahman priests and 
 Buddhist mendicants. He also appoints persons to receive 
 and transmit to him, at all times, even in his hours of rec- 
 reation, the wishes of his people. He declares that his 
 principal desire is the prosperity of the whole world, to be 
 blameless himself toward all creatures, to make them happy 
 here, and prepare tliem to attain Swerga, or the Hindoo 
 Heaven. He commands his children and descendants to 
 labor in the same way for the common good, but tells 
 them that it is a work of great difficulty. He also pro- 
 claims universal toleration for the ministers of all relis:- 
 ions ; since all have the same purpose, moral restraint and 
 purity. He declares that festivals and sacrifices to please 
 the gods are of little use, but that the true festival is per- 
 forming the duties of respect to good men, and liberality 
 to teachers. All outward fame and glory he considers as 
 chaff, and worthless. He declares that all forms of relig- 
 ious belief are to be respected and honored, and that a man 
 oiiglit to honor his own faith without blaming that C)f 
 others, and even he ought sometimes to praise the faith 
 which is different from his own ; but he who thinks to 
 exalt Ins own religion by blaming that of others injures 
 both, for peace and concord are desirable. 
 
 The doctrine of these oldest Buddhist monuments is, how- 
 ever, of a Buddhism without Buddha. The spirit of Bud- 
 dha appears in this tenderness toward all living things, 
 and this respect for all religions ; but there is no word in 
 any of the tablets concerning the authority of Sakya-Muni 
 or liis teaching, and nothing of the monastic life. Com- 
 
PT.ATK VII. 
 
 KiG. 1- Exterior of Cave Temple. 
 
 Fig. 2. Interior of the same Temple. 
 
THE BUDDHIST MONKS OF CKNTIiAL ASIA. Go 
 
 ing down to the time of the Sanclii monuments there is 
 still no asceticism. On tliese sculptured stones, on wliich 
 innumerable ti<,aires and groups ai)pear which are older 
 than Christianity, all is cheerful, happy life. Buddha ap- 
 pears not as an ascetic but as a young prince. There is 
 feasting and music, d;incing and revelling, flowers, fruits, 
 and animals. 
 
 § 5. Buddhist monastic life in Ccijlon, Burmah, China, 
 etc. — We have seen what the monastic life is in Tliibet 
 and Tartary ; let us see what it is in Ceylon. This island 
 is the only part of India where Buddhism now exists ; but 
 here it has continued as the dominant religion ever since 
 it was first introduced under the reign of Asoka, accord- 
 ing to the historic books of Ceylon, almost three hundred 
 years before Christ. AVe have an account of Buddhism in 
 Ceylon seven hundred years later, about A.D. 400, in the 
 travels of the Chinese ])ilgrim Fa-Heen, who found this 
 religion in the most flourishing condition at that time. 
 The island he estimates to contain sixty thousand monks, 
 living in difl'erent convents, all mendicants and with no 
 personal property, though their monasteries were rich. 
 Tlie people of the island assembled regularly, four times a 
 month, to hear ])reachiug. 
 
 Of the condition of Buddhism in Ceylon at the present 
 time, Spence Hardy gives us a full account. He thinks 
 there are only twenty-five hundred priests in the island, 
 or one to every four hundred inhabitants, which is much 
 fewer than in Burmah or Siam. 
 
 The priests carry their alms-bowl from house to house, 
 and are commoidy barefooted and bareheaded. P'ach priest 
 may own tln-ee robes, but no more ; one underneatli, one 
 outside, and a cloak. He must keep his head constantly 
 shaven, and for this reason is provided with a razor. He 
 must not drink any intoxicating liquor, nor eat anything 
 
64 EVENTS AND EPOCHS IN RELIGIOUS HISTORY. 
 
 after twelve, or noon. Unless sick, he must ask only for 
 rice, and not for butter, honey, fish, or flesh ; though when 
 these are given him he is not obliged to refuse them. He 
 must pass through a novitiate before he becomes a monk. 
 The vows are not irrevocable, as they are in the Eoraan 
 Catholic orders. The novice shaves his head, puts on his 
 yellow robe, and then learns to repeat the threefold 
 formula : — 
 
 " I take refuge in Buddha. 
 
 " I take refuge in the Truth. 
 
 " I take refuge in the associated priesthood." 
 
 He then repeats the ten commandments of the priest- 
 hood, which forbid : — 
 
 1. The takhig of life. 
 
 2. Taking anything which has not been given. 
 
 3. All intercourse with the other sex. 
 4 Saying what is not true. 
 
 5. Tlie use of intoxicating drink. 
 
 6. Eating in the afternoon. 
 
 7. Attending dances, musical entertainments, or shows. 
 
 8. The use of flowers, perfumes, or ointment on the body. 
 
 9. The use of honorable seats or couches. 
 10. Receivins: oold or silver. 
 
 "o &" 
 
 The daily observances of a Buddhist novice are these : — 
 He must rise before daybreak, clean his teeth, sweep the 
 rooms and courts, fetch all the water needed, and filter it. 
 After this he must remain alone to practise self-examina- 
 tion during three Buddhist hours, or about one liour of our 
 time. The bell then rings for worship, at the sound of 
 which lie goes to the tope which contains the sacred relics, 
 and offers flowers to Buddha as if Buddha were really 
 present. He must meditate on the nine virtues of Buddha, 
 
TUE liUDDlllST MU>;KS 01- CENTUAL ASLV. (Jo 
 
 with a fixed mind ; pray for pardon for liis faults, prostrate 
 before the sacred phice, with his loreliead touching the 
 ground. He then nnist examine his calendar, so as to 
 know the day of the month, the hour of the day, and the 
 year since the death of Buddha. Next he goes out with 
 his alms-bowl, following his i)receptor; and when his bowl 
 is full he returns to his vihara, or monastery, washes the 
 feet of his preceptor, asks if he is thirsty, and ofi'ers him 
 iiHxl. After this he recites some religious stanzas, and 
 then takes his own meal. That eaten, he meditates, reads 
 the sacred books, writes, and asks questions of his pre- 
 ceptor till dark. Finally he requests permission to retire, 
 repeats his evening prayer, and lies down. 
 
 Mr. Hardy says these i)riests in Ceylon are hospitable, 
 and receive travellers as kindly as tliose Father Hue found 
 in Tartary. In travelling he says he was never refused 
 food or lodging at a Buddhist monastery. There is usually 
 a school for children attached to each, whence the hum of 
 their voices comes, like that which we hear in passing one 
 of our own villas^e school-houses. In Burmah the childien 
 of the people are taught gratuitously in all the Buddhist 
 monasteries. 
 
 Eev. Howard ^lalcolm, in his work on the I>urman Em- 
 pire, which he visited in 183G, has much to say in favor 
 (as well as in censure) of the Buddhists, but he concludes 
 thus : — 
 
 " No false religion, ancient or modern, is comparable to this. 
 ... Its doctrines and practical piety bear a strong resemblance 
 to those of our own Holy Scripture. There is scarcely a prin- 
 ciple or precept in their sacred books which is not also found 
 in our Bible. Did the people but act up to the principles of 
 peace and love in tlicir religion, oppression and injury would 
 be known no more within their borders." He adds that Bud- 
 dhism has " no mythology of obscene and ferocious deities, no 
 
 5 
 
66 EVENTS AND EPOCHS IN KELIGIOUS HISTORY. 
 
 sanguinary and impure observances, no self-inflicted tortures, 
 no tyrannizing priesthood, no confounding of right and wrong. 
 In its moral code it seems to have followed genuine traditions ; 
 in all respects it is the best religion man has ever invented." 
 
 In Burmah, Buddhism has been preserved in great purity. 
 Its temples, monasteries, and topes are innumerable. The 
 monks confine their religious services to preaching. They 
 wear the yellow robe, have the shaven head, and go with 
 bare feet. Their monasteries are the national schools of 
 the empire. As the vows are not irrevocable, most of the 
 Burman youth assume the yellow robe for a short period 
 without becoming professed members. Every monastery 
 contains these novices, and the regular monks, their teach- 
 ers ; and is presided over by an abbot or governor. The 
 monasteries of each district constitute a province under its 
 provincial head, and there is one Grand Master, or Supe- 
 rior, who governs the whole. There is no provision made 
 by the government to maintain religion, but it is liberally 
 supported by the free-will offerings of the people. The 
 festivals, which are numerous, are largely attended. The 
 rosary is in general use. 
 
 The public worship of Burmah is in the temples or at 
 the pagodas, and it is not conducted by the priests. There 
 is no ritual like that of the Eonian Breviary or the Zend- 
 Avesta. Burman worship consists of individuals coming to 
 the temples to pray, and to offer rice and flowers ; rice in 
 the morninfT, flowers in the afternoon. Umbrellas are also 
 a common offerino;. 
 
 Mr. Malcolm describes a visit to a pagoda in Burmah, 
 in the town of Moulmein. This town contains seventy- 
 eight pagodas, with five hundred priests. These pagodas 
 are solid buildings, of stone or brick, shaped like a dome, 
 with a gilded spire on top. Small chapels or shrines sur- 
 
THE BUDDHIST MONKS OF CENTRAL ASIA. 67 
 
 round each, coiitaininj,^ images. There is much gilding, 
 and tall Hag-stall's, witli streamers. 
 
 A large house is near the cliief pagoda, full of images of 
 Guatama, — handsome, and often colossal. One is forty 
 feet high. 
 
 Mr. Malcolm was touched at the sight of a man with a 
 child in his arms, coming up the hill. He prostrated liim- 
 sL'lf and prayed, laying his green leaves before the idol. 
 His little boy, three years old, knelt and prayed too. So 
 sincere and sim])le was this devotion that it touched the 
 lieart of this Protestant inspector of missions, as a like 
 devotion in Thil)et had excited the admiration of the 
 Roman Catholic missionary. 
 
 Near Kangoon is a celebrated pagoda. Tlie avenue from 
 the city is lined witli pagodas. This chief one stands on 
 the top of a hill which is cut in terraces. Its grandeur is 
 said to be imposing. It is an enormous building, covered 
 with gilding. All around are marble pavements, colossal 
 lions, lofty pillars, enormous stone jars. There are twenty 
 or thirty worshippers at all hours of the day, engaged in 
 prayer, and two thousand in the course of the day. 
 
 § 6. Buddhist Architecture. Roek-cut Temj)les ami Mon- 
 asteries. — Among all races and in all ages building turns 
 into architecture, and becomes a fine art under the influ- 
 ence of religion. The great works of this kind are tem- 
 ]>les. The temples of Karnac, in Egypt; the Parthenon, in 
 Greece ; the great pagoda of Tanjore, in India, a pyramid 
 fourteen stories high, two hundred feet to tlie top ; the 
 beautiful Jain tower, at Chittore ; the Pantheon, at Eome ; 
 the P»)rcelain pagoda, at Nfinkin ; the vast Moluimmeihin 
 mosque at Delhi ; that of Cordova ; the noble cathedrals of 
 Germany, Italy, and England, — all these are outgrowtlis 
 of the religious sentiment. And each great religion d('- 
 velops its own style of architecture. That of Greece did 
 
6S EVENTS AND EPOCHS IN KELIGIOUS HISTORY. 
 
 not imitate Egypt; the temple at Jerusalem was not 
 copied from the religious editices at Babylon ; wherever 
 the Mohammedan religion went it carried a wholly new 
 style of Saracenic art, the same type in India as in Spain ; 
 mediseval Christianity blossomed out in the thirteenth 
 century into the vast minsters which covered Europe ; 
 and thus also Buddhism, from the very beginning, de- 
 veloped a peculiar architecture, all its own, in the three 
 chief forms of topes (or memorial monuments), monasteries, 
 and temples. Many of these in India are cut from the 
 solid rock. Such is the temple of Karli, on the road be- 
 tween Bombay and Poonali ; the largest yet known, and 
 excavated at a time when the style was in its greatest 
 purity, which was, perhaps, somewhere from about eighty 
 years before Christ to one hundred years after Christ.^ 
 It curiously resembles a Christian church, haviug a nave 
 and side aisles, with an apse and dome at the inner end. 
 Such a structure might be used for Christian worship, 
 and be found wholly suitable for that purpose without 
 alteration. 
 
 With the Buddhist King Asoka commenced all we have 
 of Hindoo architecture. 
 
 Mr. Fergusson thinks that in India proper there remain 
 as many as fifty groups of these rock-cut temples and 
 monasteries ; making, in all, not less than a thousand yet 
 existing, nine hundred of which are Buddhist. The exterior 
 facades are nearly perfect ; for a building carved out of the 
 rock is immutable, liable to no decay, needing no repairs. 
 
 Nine-tenths of these excavated buildings are in the 
 Bombay Presidency. 
 
 1 These descriptions are taken chiefly from the works of James Fergus- 
 son, Esq., especially his "Rock-cut Temples of India." The illustrations 
 here given are heliotype reproductions from his drawings. For the temple 
 at Karli see Plate VIII. Fie. 1. 
 
.fT,%^^^'^^- 
 
 rU;. 1. 'iKI.Al V AN I, ll.Ml'l,!. A I IV"lIl,| 
 
 Fig. 2. Kylas. Tkmple at Elloka 
 
THE BUDDHIST MONKS OF CENTRAL ASIA. G9 
 
 The others are at Behar aud Cuttack, in Bengal, and 
 MahavelHpore, in Madras. The reason for tliis location, 
 Mr. Fergusson thinks, is geological. There are in these dis- 
 tricts horizontal strata of rock of uniform texture, great 
 thickness, and witli i)erpendicular edges, cropping out on the 
 sides of the hills.^ This made excavation easy, and the ma- 
 terial excavated could be easily disposed of by being simply 
 shot down the slope of the hill. Thougli the rock is hard, 
 lieing an amygdaloid trap, the construction was not as diffi- 
 cult as it seems. At first sight, a monolithic temple, dug out 
 of rock, appears a wonderful exploit; but Mr. Fergusson says 
 it is easier and cheaper to excavate a temple than to build 
 one. If there are, say, fifty thousand cubic feet of stone 
 in the walls of the building, tliere is just about the same 
 amount to be excavated from the interior. Tlien the ques- 
 tion is, which is the easiest: to cut out fifty thousand feet 
 of rock, and shoot it over the edge of the hill; or to 
 quarry fifty thousand feet, bring it from a distance, raise 
 it, and set it ? Tlie excavation, he calculates, would 
 cost only one-tenth of building. Now the Buddliist mon- 
 asteries need not be in any particular place, but could 
 be built wherever the proper stratum of rock could be 
 found ; and this gives tlie raison d'etre of these monolitliic 
 buildings. 
 
 In the temple at Karli we may notice, in the engrav- 
 ing,2 the shrine under the dome of the apse, three entran- 
 ces under a gallery, one great window over the gallery, an 
 arched outer porch supported by two stout pillars, a dwarf 
 colonnade above, mortices in the rock to hold the wooden 
 cornice or ornaments which are now gone, and the lion- 
 pillar in front supporting four lions. 
 
 Mr. Fergusson (" Rock-cut Temples of India,") describes 
 this cave, and calls it the largest and finest in India, 
 1 See Plate V. Fig. 1. ^ Plate VIII. Fig. 1. 
 
70 EVENTS AND EPOCHS IN RELIGIOUS HISTORY. 
 
 and also the best preserved. It is about half way 
 between Poena and Bombay. Its interior dimensions are 
 one hundred and two feet in total length, and eighty-one 
 feet in the length of the nave. Its width inside is forty- 
 five feet. The nave is separated, as in mediaeval Christian 
 churches, by a double row of columns. In this cave there 
 are fifteen on each side. The capitals are ornamented with 
 carved elephants and human figures, the sculpture of which 
 is good. Behind the chaitya (dagoba, pagoda, tope),^ or 
 d(?me, which contains the sacred relics, are seven more 
 pillars. In front of the arched opening are two massive 
 octagon columns, which once supported another screen 
 consisting of a plain massive wall ; and above this again 
 were four dwarf pillars. The mortices show that this wall 
 supported what was probably a wooden gallery, which Mr. 
 Fergusson supposes to have been a music gallery .^ 
 
 This writer, the best authority on comparative archi- 
 tecture, tells us that the arrangement of the parts in these 
 temples, whicli he calls chaitya caves, is exactly the same 
 as the choir of a o'othic cathedral. Across the front there 
 is always a screen, with a gallery over it, occupying the 
 place of a rood-loft or organ-loft. In this screen are three 
 doors, the largest opening into the nave, and the two side 
 doors into the aisles, just as in most Christian churches. 
 Above this screen is one vast window, usually of a horse- 
 shoe form, through which the whole light is thrown on the 
 dagoha, which takes the place of the high altar in Catholic 
 
 1 These words indicate monuments intended to preserve relics. Tope 
 is the Pali thUpa and the Sanskrit stU-pa ; it means "accumulation," and 
 has a sense like that of tumulus in Latin. Dago}) (in the Ceylon phrase) 
 is a corruption of dhdtu-gojm, i. e., " relic-presei'ver " ; and chaitya applies 
 generally to objects of worship, whether images, temples, or sacred trees, 
 etc. Tope, therefore, indicates the shape of the monuments ; dagop, or 
 pagoda, their contents ; and chaitya their purpose. 
 
 2 See the illustration, Plate VIII. Fig. 1. 
 
THE BUDDHIST MONKS OF CENTRAL ASIA. 71 
 
 clmiclius. Tlie eflect of this, Mr. Fergussuu believes to 
 liave been very striking ; sonietliing like that of the Pan- 
 tiicou, but better, since the light was not dispersed but 
 concentrated. 
 
 Tlie lion-pilkir seen on the left of the entrance has an 
 inscription, deci[)hered by Mr. Prinsep, merely containing 
 the name of the tk)nor, and believed to be of tlie first or 
 second century i)efore Christ. If so, it confirms Mr. Fer- 
 gusson's opinion that the splendid IJuddhist architecture 
 sprang suddenly into existence within a century of the 
 time when the region was converted to that religion. 
 
 This magnificent temple may be regarded as the abbey 
 church for the surrounding viharas, or monasteries. For 
 not only did the temple in its form, with nave, side aisles, 
 colunnis, organ-loft, and entrance doors, resemble a Christ- 
 ian church ; but it shows that the Buddhist monasteries, 
 like the Christian abbeys of which we give plans in the 
 next chapter, consisted of buildings for the monks, placed 
 around a church for their worship. 
 
 Nor does the parallel end here. An important feature 
 in every Christian monastery and cathedral is its cloistered 
 enclosure for the use and exercise of the monks or canons. 
 Similar verandas or cloisters are attached to each Bud- 
 dhist vihara or monastery. Examples of these may be 
 seen, Plate V. Fig. 2, and Plate YI. The Christian cloister 
 (claustrum, enclosure) was a covered walk on the sides 
 of a quadrangle, to which it opened by a row of pillars or 
 arches. The reseml)lance is apparent when we compare the 
 ground-plan of the Buddhist vihara at Ajunta, Plate IX., 
 with the ground-plan of the Christian monastery, Plate 
 XIV. The Buddhist vihara, though carved from solid 
 rock, is almost identical in its arrangements with the other. 
 Each has a quadrangle, or cloister, in the middle, surrounded 
 by the monks' cells. Each has its chapel, or church, on one 
 
72 
 
 EVENTS AND EPOCHS IN KELIGIOUS HISTORY. 
 
 side of this quadrangle. One would have supposed that 
 the same architect had given the design for each structure ; 
 and yet the builders were so apart in time, space, and 
 
 • ' ft 
 
 PLAN or VIHARA CAVE N^ 2 AT AJUNTA 
 
 Plate IX. — Ground Plan of a Buddhist Monastery. 
 
THE BUDDHIST MONKS OF CENTRAL ASIA. 73 
 
 knowledge, that no relation conld have existed between 
 them. The same spiritual needs invented the same out- 
 ward expression. So true are the lines of Spenser : — 
 
 " For of the soul the body fonu doth take ; 
 Since soul is lurm, jiiid doth tlie body make." 
 
 The finest series of Buddhist monolitliic caves in India, 
 without any mixture of lirahmanism, is at Ajunta, north of 
 Bombay, near the western coast. Ajunta is in the valley 
 of the Taptee, a river which empties into the Gulf of Cam- 
 bay at Surat. The caves are near a ravine which extends 
 into the ghaut, or mountain support of the table-land of 
 tlie Deccan. The series of caves extends about five hun- 
 dred yards, and consists of twenty-nine, all cut from the 
 solid rock, and marking every change in cave architect- 
 ure during a pori(^d of at least a thousand years. (See 
 Plate V. Fig. 1.) Of these, four are churches, and the rest 
 monasteries. 
 
 TliG exterior and interior of one of the best of these 
 church-caves are shown in Plate VII. Figs. 1 and 2. The 
 interior dimensions are about forty-six feet by twenty-four. 
 Seventeen higldy ornamented pillars surround the nave, 
 and above them is a band, like a triforium in a Christian 
 church, containing niches with figures of Buddha sitting 
 cross-legged and standing, alternating with each other. 
 The roof is ribbed with stone. At one end of the nave is 
 the dagoba, or shrine, surmounted by three sacred umbrel- 
 las carved in stone, almost touchinir the roof. 
 
 Tlie viharas, or monastery caves, in this group at Ajunta, 
 are more splendid than elsewhere in India. The illustra- 
 tions, Plate V. Fig. 2, and Plate VI., show a singular taste 
 and skill. The massive dwarf columns, in Plate VI., seem 
 almost light and graceful from the ingenuity of the con- 
 struction. Tlie change from the massive square base to 
 
74 EVENTS AND EPOCHS IN RELIGIOUS HISTORY. 
 
 the many-sided shaft, ending in the beautifully carved 
 neck and capital above, with the rich ornamentation, mar- 
 vellously destroy all sense of heaviness. The shaft seems 
 ready to shoot upward out of the base. The columns in 
 Plate Y. Fig. 2 are different, but show a similar good taste 
 in the architect. Instead of capitals we have finely formed 
 brackets, with a like combination of forms in the shaft 
 as in the other building. 
 
 The interior represented in Plate VI. is at Eilora, and 
 is called Lanka. Eilora is in Central India, in the Nizam's 
 dominions. There are here about thirty excavations, of 
 which ten are Buddhist and fourteen are Brahmanical. 
 The rest, probably, are of the Jaina sect. 
 
 The most beautiful of these is the Kylas, or Kailasa.^ 
 It is of great size, and profusely ornamented. It stands in 
 a rectangular court, two hundred and forty-seven feet by 
 one hundred and fifty, and rests on four rows of pilasters, 
 which are supported by colossal elephants. It thus seems 
 suspended in the air. The interior is over a hundred feet 
 long and fifty-six broad. It will be seen, by looking at the 
 plate, that it is wholly detached. All the rock above and 
 around has been cut away, so that only by careful exami- 
 nation it is known to be a monolith. Its age is unknown, 
 but it was probably a Brahmanic structure built to eclipse, 
 by its greater splendor, the Buddhist temples around. 
 
 Thus we have another illustration of the fact that Art is 
 the dauf^hter of Eelisfion. The earliest and finest archi- 
 tecture is religious architecture ; the finest statues are 
 those of the gods; the noblest paintings are of the propli- 
 ets and sibyls, the madonnas and the infant Jesus ; the 
 beginning of poetry was in psalms and hymns, — the 
 Hymns of the Vedas and Homer, the Psalms of David, 
 the sacred songs and music of all nations. 
 
 1 See Plate VIII. Fig. 2. 
 
, THE BUDDHIST MONKS OF CENTRAL ASIA. VfJ 
 
 § 7. Spirit of Buddhism.. lU merits arul defects. Its 
 supposed denial of God and Immm'tality. — In my work on 
 " Ten Great Religions " I liiive called Buddhism the Prot- 
 estant Church of Asia, notwithstanding the many resem- 
 bhmces in its ritual to that of the Roman Catholic Church. 
 These similarities are external, but inwardly Ruddhism is 
 much nearer to Protestantism. The essential distinction 
 between tlie Protestant and Roman Catholic Church is 
 in regard to the niethoil of salvation, — the latter teach- 
 ing tliat we are saved by sacraments, the former that we 
 are saved by personal faith. Roth inculcate good works ; 
 but the root of good works, according to one, is the sacra- 
 mental grace which is mediated through the Church, — in 
 the other they result from faith produced in each soul by 
 the intluence of tlie Holy Spirit. In this central idea 
 Buddhism is like Protestantism. It arose in Asia as the 
 latter came in Europe, in the revolt of the soul against a 
 priesthood, — a revolt of human nature against a religious 
 caste, of private conscience against the authority of a 
 church. Brahmanism and Roman Catholicism make a 
 church of the priesthood, not of the people, and put the 
 essence of reliorion in sacrifices. Buddhism is a church of 
 the laity ; it rejects caste, it has no sacrifices. It was in 
 Asia, what Protestantism was in Europe, a protest of the 
 intellect against autliority, of humanity against caste, of 
 personal liberty against the dominion of an order. Brah- 
 manism and R(jman Catholicism aie more religious; Bud- 
 dhism and Protestantism more morid and intellectual. 
 Like Protestantism, Buddhism depends much on preach- 
 ino:. Mr. Hodiirson, who discovered and translated the 
 Sanskrit scriptures of Nepaul, says : *' One infallible diag- 
 nostic of Buddhism is belief in the human intellect." 
 
 The spirit of Buddhism is rational and humane. It is 
 rational, because it believes in truth as the source of good- 
 
76 EVENTS AND EPOCHS IN RELIGIOUS HISTOEY. 
 
 ness, and in the possibility of all men's knowing the truth. 
 It is a teaching religion, and has from the beginning 
 sought to preach, and has made converts by preaching, not 
 by force. It has established schools, and in its monasteries 
 the people are taught the elements of education. Bud- 
 dhism has never been propagated by force or fraud. It 
 has not deceived and it has not persecuted. It has no 
 Inquisition, and it is tolerant of all other religions. 
 
 Buddhism is a humane religion. It respects all souls ; 
 it abolished caste ; it has founded hospitals, not only for 
 men but also for animals ; and no bloody sacrifices have 
 ever smoked on its innocent altars, where the offerings 
 are fruits and flowers. In describing the festivals in 
 Nepaul, Mr. Old field states that no immodest pictures are 
 permitted among the thousands exhibited on these occa- 
 sions, and that the women who take part are perfectly 
 modest and well behaved. The same fact was remarked 
 by Mr. Malcolm in Burraah. 
 
 This humane temper, and this spirit of good-will, had 
 its origin in the character of the founder of the system. 
 We know at least this concerning him, that he believed in 
 human nature and in the power of truth. 
 
 Of the character of Sakya-Muni, St. Hilaire says : — 
 
 " I do not hesitate to say that, with the solitary exception 
 of Jesus Christ, there is, among the founders of religion, no 
 character more pure or more touching than that of the Bud- 
 dha. His life is spotless. His heroism equals his strength of 
 conviction. His example is irreproachable. He is the com- 
 plete model himself of all the virtues which he teaches. His 
 self-denial, his charity, his unceasing gentleness, never fail. 
 He quits the Court of his father at twenty -nine to become a 
 mendicant monk. In six years of retirement and isolation he 
 prepares his doctrine. He propagates it by the simple power 
 of argument and persuasion during fifty years ; and when he 
 
THE BUDDHIST MONKS OF CENTRAL ASIA. 77 
 
 dies, in the arms of his disciples, it is with the serenity of a 
 
 Hmic. 
 
 The Litest translator of tlie original Buddhist scriptures, 
 T. W. lihys Daviils,^ says of this reformer: — 
 
 " Never in the liistory of the world had a scheme of salvation 
 been put forth so simple in its nature, — so even antagonistic 
 to the belief in a soul, the belief in God, and the hope of a 
 future life ; and we must not allow our estimate of the impor- 
 tance of the event to be influenced by our disagreement from 
 the opinions put fortli. It was a turning-point in the history 
 (^f man when a reformer, full of the most earnest moral })ur- 
 p(\se and trained in all the intellectual culture of liis time, put 
 forth deliberately, and witli a knowlodjj^e of the opposing views, 
 the doctrine of a salvation to be found here, in tins life, in an 
 inward change of heart, to be brought about by perseverance 
 in a mere system of self-culture and self-control." 
 
 If we inquire into the good and evil of Buddhism we 
 are told by St. Hihiire that the merits of the system are its 
 practical Jiims ; its object to save all mankind from evil ; 
 its contempt for vulgar and low pleasures; its charity; its 
 sentiment of equality ; its kindness ; its resignation ; its 
 truthfulness ; its respect for family life. Its defects and 
 faults he characterizes as a want of power to create any 
 true social life ; its egotistical tendencies, arising from the 
 habit of being always occupied about one's-self ; its loss of 
 the idea of goodness as a reality ; its scepticism ; its incura- 
 ble des])air; its absolute contempt for life; and finally, its 
 atheism. 
 
 In Ihiddhism, St. TTilaire says, man is left to himself. 
 There is no divine inspiration, no help from on high. All 
 
 1 "Ruddliist Suttas;" translati-d from Pali, by T. W. Rliys Davids, 
 •'Sacred Books of the East," vol. iii. 
 
78 EVENTS AND EPOCHS IN EELIGIOUS HISTORY. 
 
 above is darkness. There is no illumination from any 
 higher power. Karma, or fate, oppresses the soul. The 
 inspiring ideas of permanent human personality, of indi- 
 vidual freedom, and of Supreme Cause, disappear. 
 
 If the Buddha is a god, he is only one of a series 
 of gods. The gods are all finite, temporal, and wholly 
 human. 
 
 The sense of the Infinite, the Perfect, the Absolute, dis- 
 appears in Buddhism. This destroys the spring of hope, 
 and leads to tlie apathetic civilization of all Buddhist 
 nations. Religion, as aspiration to the perfect, is the 
 spring of movement. The idea of the infinite and ^ternal 
 personal God, who is also Father and Friend, — this is the 
 real motive power in Christian civilization. Ability to 
 combine God and man, time and eternity, in one idea of 
 God, " above all, through all, and in all," is not found in 
 the relis^ion of Buddha. 
 
 Another defect in Buddhism is the absence of a sense of 
 creative intelligence in the universe. Things rise and 
 fall by nature. We need, beside creation by law, a crea- 
 tion by wisdom and love. 
 
 Also Providence is wanting. In Buddhism man is his 
 own Savior. It substitutes Prudence for Providence. All 
 evil is the result of error ; it is simply mistake, and may 
 teach us to do better next time. But Buddhism has no 
 idea of absolute goodness, or of any infinite purpose in the 
 universe. 
 
 The reason why there is no progress in Buddhist coun- 
 tries generally, is that for this we need faith both in 
 the Infinite and Finite. Brahmanism loses the Finite, 
 Buddhism the Infinite; but both are combined in the 
 Christian idea, and hence its superiority. In Christianity 
 there is no better spiritualism than may be found in 
 Brahmanic literature, and no better humanity than may 
 
THE BUDDHIST MONKS OF CENTRAL ASIA. 79 
 
 be found in BuJdliistic literature ; but it combines the 
 two. 
 
 This is the criticism passed on lUiddhisni by St. Hilaire,- 
 who has made of it a very complete study. In the main, 
 this opinion is certainly well founded. While Iji'ahmanisui, 
 in its sacred books, seeks for absorption in the Infinite and 
 adores Ab.solute lieing, Buddhism sees the divine only in 
 linite things. The Duddha who now presides over the 
 universe is himself linite, and was once a man ; but when 
 we are told tliat Buddhism is therefore Atheism, we must 
 remember that the majority of Christians also worship a 
 God who was once a man. Though the Buddha was once 
 a man, he is now divine, and is worshipped as such every 
 day by millions, with devout and sincere adoration. And 
 when Buddhism is charged with teaching that this world 
 is wholly evil, let us .not forget how many Christian teach- 
 ers say the same thing. And how can Buddliists deny the 
 reality of the soul, when their fundamental doctrine is 
 that of Transmigration ? How can there be migration 
 fi'oni one body to another, if there is nothing to migrate ? 
 And in regard to Nirvana, — though I am aware that the 
 weight of opinion is at ])resent with those who assert that 
 it means annihilation, I must think the better belief is 
 that which considers it as the annihilation of self by 
 absorption into the Infinite Being. We have seen that 
 the Buddhists liave no clear conception of the Infinite. 
 To them, therefore. Nirvana is a state of which they 
 know nothing. They took the word and the idea from 
 Brahmanism ; but said that when that condition was at- 
 tained, all that they now knew would be nothing, and 
 would end forever. Christians also speak of self-sacrifice, 
 of annihilation of self, as the aim of existence, — never 
 meaning by that absolute annihilation ; and the conclusive 
 proof that Buddhism means no more than this, is that not 
 
80 EVENTS AND EPOCHS IN RELIGIOUS HISTORY. 
 
 only the Buddha entered Nh'vana during his earthly life, 
 but that others are able to do the same. Some of the 
 Buddhist sayings are tliese : — 
 
 " Wherever the truth is kuown, there is i!^irvana." -^ 
 " When a man can bear anything without complaint, he has 
 entered Nirvana." 
 
 The Pali scriptures tell us that Subhadda, the last disci- 
 ple whom Buddha himself converted, entered jSTirvana while 
 alive.- 
 
 A favorite way of putting the Buddliist doctrine is that 
 death is the result of birth ; birth the result of existence 
 (for we exist before we are born) ; existence, of attachment 
 to material things ; attachment comes from desire ; desire, 
 from contact (sensation), not merely material contact, but 
 soul-contact ; contact, from the senses ; the senses, from 
 name and form; name and form, from the power of dis- 
 tinguishing ; distinguishing (or consciousness), from igno- 
 rance ; — and that knowledge is the cure for all. 
 
 To attain this knowledge of the emptiness of phenomena, 
 and the reality of eternal things, is tlie object of transmi- 
 gration. This takes place under the law Karma, or the 
 law of cause and effect. 
 
 Buddha agreed therefore, it would seem, with the Brah- 
 mans, that the highest good consists in escaping from the 
 finite life into infinite being; but he differed as to the 
 method. Tt could not be accomplished, so he taught, by 
 direct intuition of the eternal, nor by maceration of the 
 body ; but by passing through the finite, and understanding 
 it. To know the meaning of the mystery of existence 
 enables us to escape from it into the higher but unknown 
 life. In one word, the Buddhists have anticipated the 
 
 ^ Spence Hardy. 
 
 2 Rhys Davids, " Book of the Great Decease." 
 
THE BUDDHIST MONKS OF CENTRAL ASIA. 81 
 
 agnosticism of Herbert Spencer. Tliey declare that the 
 Infinite is real, but cannot be known. 
 
 The apostle Paul, at Athens, declared tliat '* God has 
 made of one blood every nation of men to dwell on all the 
 face of the eartli, liaving determined their appointed sea- 
 sons, and the bounds of tlieir liabitation ; that they sliould 
 seek God, if hai)ly tliey might feel after Ilim and find 
 Him." The Buddhists whom we have been studying are 
 among those who are seeking the Lord, if haply tliey may 
 feel after Him and find Him. Formerly it was the custom 
 to call all heathen religions absolutely false, and to say that 
 no heathen, however honest, however good, could be saved ; 
 but now we have learned better, and can be grateful to 
 God, who has never left himself without a witness in every 
 human heart and mind. We follow tlie larger wisdom of 
 our own Master, and where we find good fruit, argue that 
 there must be something good in the tree. These myriads 
 of our fellow-men follow their light. It may be a feeble 
 one, but it is part of the same divine light wliich we enjoy, 
 for all truth and goodness must come from God ; and 
 wherever there is humanity toward all creatures, and 
 hospitality to those who need it, — the love of truth, and 
 reverence for the highest that men know, — there is evi- 
 dence of the coming dawn which, by the blessing of 
 heaven, shall shine both in them and in us more and 
 more unto the perfect day. 
 
82 EVENTS AND EPOCHS IN RELIGIOUS HISTORY. 
 
 IV. 
 
 THE CHRISTIAN MONKS AND MONASTIC LIFE. 
 
 § 1. Original Christianity not Monastic. — There is notli- 
 ing in religious history more interesting than the preva- 
 lence of monastic life among so many races, within such a 
 variety of religions, and during such long periods. 
 
 Man is a social being. Everywhere he seeks the com- 
 panionship of his fellows. Weak alone, he becomes strong 
 through society. A wild man, alone in the woods, is hardly 
 able to defend himself against the surrounding animals, or 
 to support his life. Such a man soon sinks below the 
 human level. Without society there is no home, no edu- 
 cation, no arts, no progress or improvement, no human, 
 affections ; and yet great multitudes have firmly believed 
 that to live alone in the wilderness is the only way to 
 reach the hio'hest kind of religion. 
 
 Man is essentially social, — made to live in families, 
 tribes, neighborhoods, towns, amid social institutions ; and 
 yet the wholly dual tendencies and antagonisms of human 
 nature appear in this also, — that loving society he also 
 loves solitude, incapable of living alone he must some- 
 times be alone. He needs compan}^ and also seclusion. 
 Hence come the two forms of religion : social religion, 
 embodied in churches, in public worship, in ritual, liturgy, 
 common prayer, and religious meetings ; and private wor- 
 ship, solitary prayer, religious retreats, and monasticism. 
 
THE CHRISTIAN MONKS AND MONASTIC LIFE. 83 
 
 To alternate society with solitude is natural and bene- 
 ficial ; but the monk is one who avoids society altogether, 
 renounces social duties, and lives apart from communion 
 and fellowship with his race. In order to fulfil the first 
 commandment, " Love to God," he refuses to obey the 
 second, " Love to Man." That this should become the ideal 
 religious life among Pagans, we can understand ; but how 
 should it ever have become a Christian belief that the 
 highest form of lioliness was that which made it impossible 
 to fulfil any duties to one's neighbor ? And yet this was 
 beheved through centuries. It was taught by Jerome and 
 Augustine ; it was the settled conviction of the whole 
 church. To '' enter religion " meant to go into a convent, 
 — as if there were no real religion outside. Sanctity, in 
 its only genuine form, was supposed to be there. Every 
 one who wished to be a saint must fly from the world. 
 Even so sensible a man as Montalembert takes this ground. 
 " Every man," he says, " who believes in tke incarnation of 
 the Son of God, and the divinity of the Gospel, ought to 
 recognize in monastic life the most noble effort which has 
 ever been made to overcome corrupted nature, and to ap- 
 proach Christian perfection." Yet Jesus Christ was not 
 a monk ; his disciples were not monks ; Peter and Paul 
 were not monks. The Scripture twice tells us that Jesus, 
 the Captain of our Salvation, " was made perfect through 
 sufferings," — sufferings endured while doing his work 
 among men. Jesus did not retire into a cloister ; he went 
 about doing good. He nowhere recommended monastic 
 life. Instead of establishing celibacy for his followers he 
 made wine for a marriage feast. He prayed, not that his 
 disciples should be taken out of the world, but that they 
 should be kept from the evil. Nothing is more striking 
 than the contrast between the religious example of Jesus 
 and that of his predecessor, John the Baptist. John the 
 
84 EVENTS AND EPOCHS IN RELIGIOUS HISTORY. 
 
 Baptist was the typical monk, — an eremite; living in the 
 wilderness ; eating the pods of the locust, and wild honey ; 
 wrapt in the skin of a camel. John the Baptist came 
 neither eating bread nor drinking wine ; the Son of Man 
 came eating and drinking ; and yet, during many centuries, 
 the Christian church took John the Baptist, and not Christ, 
 as its example, and as the type of the highest virtue. 
 Montalembert says : " I do not hesitate to affirm that the 
 monks are the representatives of manhood under its most 
 pure and energetic form, of manhood intellectual and 
 moral ; making of earth a stepping-stone to heaven, and 
 of life a long series of victories." " Thus," he adds, " the 
 monk draws from his solitude the treasure of a strength 
 which the world has never surpassed nor, indeed, equalled." 
 If the monk is the representative of the highest manhood, 
 then evidently Jesus is not that representative. 
 
 The word Monk (jjlovo^, alone) means, etymologically, 
 " a solitary." The word Hermit, or eremite, means, etymo- 
 logically, one who lives in the desert, €prjfio<;. Now the 
 monastic system was not found in Christianity during the 
 first three centuries. There is no trace of it in the E(jman 
 Catacombs. We saw, in our first two lectures, that it is a 
 mistake to suppose that the Catacombs were occupied by 
 the Christians as residences, — except temporarily, during 
 the rage of persecution. If there had been any anchorites 
 in Kome they would have gone there; but austere self- 
 denial and renunciation of the world were not then con- 
 sidered the highest type of Christian virtue. They painted 
 on the walls of the Catacombs, not John the Baptist in the 
 wilderness, but Jesus sitting at the marriage feast. Cheer- 
 fulness prevailed then in the midst of martyrdom. The 
 age of the monks had not yet come. 
 
 § 2. Beginning of Christian Monasticism. The Ancho- 
 rites. — That age began, for Christianity, in the year 311, 
 
THE CHRISTIAN MONKS AND MONASTIC LIFE. 85 
 
 and in Egypt, in the appearance of Anthony the hermit. 
 Egyi)t had been the home of anchorites before the Cln-ist- 
 ian era. The old Egyptian religion had its nionk.s, and 
 Jewish monks were numerous in Egypt when Jesus was 
 born. The priests of the Temple of Isis, at rhila3, were 
 cloistered monks living in cells, forbidden to leave the 
 temple. Their business was to pour out libations of milk 
 to Osiris once a day. They sat on the ground the rest of 
 the day, witli their knees up to their chins, and varied this 
 , monotony by sometimes cutting themselves with knives. 
 Some of the Greeks in Egypt imitated this practice, and 
 became religious recluses. There is a letter extant, of the 
 second century before Christ, addressed to Ptolemy, King 
 of Egypt, by a Greek monk in the Temple of Serapis, who 
 begs an appointment in the army for his brother, on the 
 ground that he himself had lived as a religious recluse for 
 fifteen years. At the time of Christ's coming there were 
 several communities of Jewisli monks in Egypt, whose 
 mode of life is described by Philo, and who were called 
 Therapeutix;. A convent of tliese Jewish monks w^as estab- 
 lished south of the Lake Alareotis. Each lived in his own 
 cell, meditating on the Law, praying at sunrise and sunset, 
 and eating but one meal a day. They saw no one and 
 spoke to no one during the week, and only met together on 
 tlie Sabbatli. Lreiid, water, .salt and cresses, made up their 
 meal. 
 
 Christian monasticism began in Egypt, in tlie third cen- 
 tury. The first monks were anchorites and ascetics. To 
 torture the body was considered the surest way of saving 
 the soul. Lecky says the idea of a saint was of a half- 
 starved, dirty madman, who spent his life in useless self- 
 torture." St. Alacarius, having killed a gnat which was 
 stinging him, punished himself by sleeping naked in a 
 marsh wdiere he was covered with venomous flies. He 
 
86 EVENTS AND EPOCHS IN RELIGIOUS HISTORY. 
 
 carried eighty pounds of iron wherever he went. A disci- 
 ple, St. Eusebius, excelled him by carrying a hundred 
 and fifty pounds, and lived for three years in a dried up 
 well. St. Sabinus would only eat rotten corn. St. Bessa- 
 rion slept forty days and nights in the middle of thorn- 
 bushes. Some saints would not lie down to sleep. Some 
 went naked, lived in dens, and crawled about like beasts. 
 St. Athanasius relates, with a thrill of delight, that St. 
 Anthony, the father of Christian monachism, was never 
 guilty of washing his feet. St. Abraham, the hermit, re- 
 fused, during fifty years, to wash either his face or feet. 
 St. Euphraxia belonged to a convent of a hundred and 
 thirty nuns, who thought it religious to abstain from all 
 ablutions. We all know the story of St. Simeon Stylites, 
 who lived on the top of a pillar sixty feet high ; standing 
 on one leg during long periods, and in a condition too 
 dreadful to be spoken of. He was considered the greatest 
 saint of all, and throughout Christendom he was univer- 
 sally reverenced as the highest example of Christian 
 perfection. 
 
 § 3. The Anchorites take the place of the Martyrs. — It 
 will be noticed that the age of martyrdom had just ceased 
 when this self-inflicted martyrdom began. Because, after 
 the accession of Constantino, there were no more persecu- 
 tions, it was thought necessary to gain the glory and honor 
 of martyrdom by voluntary torments. One error gener- 
 ates another. The Christians who were tortured and put 
 to death by the Eoman Emperors attained the highest 
 honors in the church. A martyr's death was believed to 
 blot out all sins, and to open the gates of Paradise. It 
 was the baptism of blood and fire, and made the soul white 
 as that of an innocent child. These martjTS were the 
 saints of the church by the simple fact of martyrdom. No 
 matter how wicked they had been, a martyr's death atoned 
 
THE CHRISTIAN MONKS AND MONASTIC LIFE. 87 
 
 for it all, and might sometimes atone for the sins of others. 
 Even the Confessors, who had been tortured but not killed, 
 were allowed to stand above Bishops, and by their au- 
 thority could restore to the cliurch those who had been 
 excluded. It became, therefore, a desirable tiling to be 
 persecuted, and Christians offered themselves to be tor- 
 tured or put to death, not accepting deliverance ; for such 
 is the supreme power of the soul in man, such mastery has 
 mind over body, that numbers will glory in persecutions 
 and court death in pursuit of an idea. It was logical there- 
 fore, that wlien the martyr-age ceased, by the triumph of 
 Christianity, men should have sought to gain the highest 
 glory here, and Heaven hereafter, by inflicting martyrdom 
 on themselves. 
 
 Then there came, especially in the East, a rage for 
 religious asceticism. The type of Christian virtue was 
 entirelv champed. Read the New Testament, and what is 
 evidently the highest virtue, that which fulfils the whole 
 law ? Every one will now say that it is Love. In this 
 Christ and all tlie apostles agree. Even Paul, who en- 
 dured such persecution for his faith, has left on record a 
 sentence whicli declares all renunciation and martyrdom 
 as nothing without love : " Though I bestow all my goods 
 to feed the poor, and tliough I give my body to be burned, 
 and liave not love, it profiteth me notliing." But, during 
 tlie period of which we now speak, the higliest virtue did 
 not consist in love, but self-inflicted sufferings. 
 
 ^lultitudes, in incredible numbers, poured into the des- 
 erts of Egypt to become hermits. The anchorites, who 
 w^ent there to be alone, found themselves surrounded by 
 thousands of disciples who longed to be near such holiness. 
 The hermits soon became a mighty nation. The imagi- 
 nation \\'as fascinated by the poetic charm of this ideal 
 life. The greatest teachers and pulpit orators, — Ambrose, 
 
88 EVENTS AND EPOCHS IN EELIGIOUS HISTORY. 
 
 Augustine, Athanasius, Jerome, Chrysostom, Basil, Gregory, 
 — extolled the monastic state as the highest one attainable 
 on earth. This was the " divine philosophy," — this the 
 " angelic knowledge." In the Nitron desert, south of Alex- 
 andria, there were 5000 monks under one abbot. St. 
 Pachomius, in another desert, ruled over 7000. One city 
 in Egypt was a great monastery, and contained 20,000 
 nuns and 10,000 monks. St. Jerome says that 50,000 
 assembled sometimes in Egypt for the Easter festivals. 
 Boasting of their ignorance, half crazy with enthusiasm, 
 seeing wild visions, maddened by diabolic temptations, — 
 they were at the mercy of religious demagogues. The 
 monks rushed from the deserts into the cities to depose 
 bishops whom they happened to tliink heretics. Milman 
 tells us that they assumed in the East complete dominion 
 over the public mind ; tyrannized over bishops and patri- 
 archs ; took possession of the streets of the cities in armed 
 bodies, filling them with bloodshed. Monks in Antioch, 
 monks in Jerusalem, monks in Alexandria, monks in Con- 
 stantinople, decided by clamor and force what was orthodox 
 and what heterodox. They attacked and murdered the 
 Pagan priests, and destroyed their temples. They tore the 
 wise and pure Hypatia from her lecture-room, murdered 
 her, tore her flesh from her bones with sharp shells, and 
 flung her mangled remains into the flames. One bisliop, 
 at the head of his monks, beat to death another bishop, in 
 a church council. 
 
 § 4. The Monks collected into Communities. — This evil 
 was so great that it became necessary to subject such 
 insubordinate saints to some rule. First, they were assem- 
 bled in lauras, which word conies from the Greek \avpo<^^ 
 a street, and means simply villages where the houses stood 
 in rows. Next, they were collected into convents, and sub- 
 jected to strict rules and discipliue. Thus the second pe- 
 
THE CHRISTIAN MONKS AND MONASTIC LIFE. 89 
 
 riod of monasticism arrived. The anchorites disappeared, 
 with all their wild independence, their spiritual pride, their 
 daring courage, their ignorant fanaticism, their amazing 
 self-denial. The liermit gave place to the cenoVjite ; a 
 word derived- from the Greek kolvo^ I^^o^, ^i common life. 
 Solitary life gave way to life in communities. Self-torture 
 ceased, by degrees, to be regarded as the highest form of 
 virtue ; and nowliere in all Christendom to-day, wliether 
 in the l\oman Catholic or Greek or Oriental churclies, is 
 that ancient type to be found. 
 
 It is curious to see a great popular belief like tliis pass 
 so entirely out of Christian thought ; thougli in fact it was 
 never Christian, but was essentially Pagan. It was im- 
 ported out of lieathenism into Christianity. It had not 
 even the merit of originality. 
 
 § 5. Monasticisjii among the Brahmans in India, 800 
 B.C. — Tlie "Laws of Manu," — first translated into En- 
 glish by Sir William Jones, and thought to have been 
 written eight hundred or one thousand years before Christ 
 — shows that Brahmanism in India, at that remote period, 
 was partly a religion of anchorites and ascetics ; as it has 
 continued to be ever since. We have seen that Sakya-Muni, 
 or Buddha, al)out five hundred years before Christ, began his 
 career as a Hindoo monk, not differing from other Brah- 
 manical monks. Soon, however, he became the founder for 
 Asia of the second form of monastic life, of the cenobites, or 
 monks collected into monasteries. He was the St. Bene- 
 dict of the East. But listen to what the " Laws of iManu" 
 (slightly al)ridged) teach concerning the anchorites of India 
 eight or ten centuries before the time of Christ : — 
 
 " Having lived as a housekeeper, let the twice-born man go 
 and dwell in the forest." 
 
 " Abandoning all food eaten in towns, or household utensils, 
 let him repair to the lonely wood." 
 
90 EVENTS AND EPOCHS IN RELIGIOUS HISTORY. 
 
 " With pure food, such as holy sages eat, green herbs, roots, 
 and fruit, — wearing the hide of a black antelope, or clothes 
 made of bark, — let him bathe evening and morning ; suffering 
 his hair, beard, and nails to grow." 
 
 "Let him be constantly engaged in reading the Vedas ; pa- 
 tient of all extremities ; univer^sally benevolent ; with a mind 
 intent on the Supreme Being ; a perpetual giver, but no re- 
 ceiver of gifts ; with tender affection for all animated things." 
 
 "Alone let him always dwell, living with no companion. 
 Let him eat but once a day, not much at a time. Let him 
 beg food late in the day. Let him not be sorrowful if it is 
 refused ; if it is given, let him not be glad." 
 
 " Let him slide backwards and forwards on the gi'ound ; let 
 him stand a whole day on tiptoe ; or let him continue in 
 motion, rising and sitting alternately." 
 
 " In the hot weather let him sit between four fires, with the 
 sun above ; in the rains let him stand uncovered, and without 
 even a robe ; in the cold weather let him wear w^et clothes, and 
 let him sleep on the bare ground." 
 
 " Having shuffled off his body by these modes which great 
 sages have practised, becoming void of sorrow and fear, he rises 
 into the divine essence." 
 
 In the Bhagavat-geeta, an ancient religious poem, — 
 probably later than Manu, — the yogi, or Hindoo anchorite, 
 is thus described : — 
 
 " He is one w^ho abandons all wishes, has subdued his pas- 
 sions, and sits alone on the ground, covered with a skin. In 
 the exercise of his devotion he must keep his body immovable, 
 with his eyes fixed on the point of his nose, wishing for nothing, 
 and meditating on God alone." 
 
 It would seem, from Manu, that in his time monasticism 
 in India was still chiefly a system of anchorites and her- 
 mits ; but we have evidence, from the beautiful drama of 
 Sakoontala, — written by Kalidas before the Christian era. 
 
THE CHRISTIAN MONKS AND MONASTIC LIFE. 91 
 
 — that the same change had occuired in Asia that after- 
 wards took phice in Europe. The Hindoo hermits were 
 now often collected into lauras, or viUages. There is a 
 very pretty picture in this play of the happy life of these 
 married hermits, living with their families in tlie depths 
 of the forest. The King Dush-y-anta arrives in his chariot, 
 chasing an antelope ; and just as he is about to shoot it 
 with his arrow, three hermits appear, telling him that the 
 antelope is theirs, and begging its life, which the king 
 readily grants. They tell him that this is the residence of 
 the great sage Canuha, whose daughter Sakoontala is water- 
 ing the flowers in the neighboring grove. Then follows a 
 charming descri[)tion of the young girls, busy with their 
 flowers. While the King is talking with them, they are 
 disturbed by a wild elephant rushing through the forest, 
 and the Kini; hastens to protect the sages from this in- 
 truder, and also from evil demons who are disturbing their 
 sacrificial rites. The demons fly as soon as the King ap- 
 pears A great change has taken place since the hermits 
 sat motionless in the sun contemplating the ends of their 
 noses. Innocence, happiness, and peaceful enjoyment of 
 nature have taken the place of harsh asceticism. 
 
 Christianity, like most other religions, has passed through 
 the stage of self-torture ; but it is to its credit that, while 
 many other religions retain this element, Christianity has 
 left it wholly behind. As a faith, it has forever passed 
 away from Christendom. The Mohammedans still have 
 their dervishes in Persia and Egypt, their fakirs in Arabia 
 and India. They thrust iron spikes into their eyes, swords 
 through their bodies, carry rags soaked with tar on fire 
 under their arms. Others handle poisonous serpents and 
 scorpions. The Hindoos still swing on ropes, with steel 
 hooks through their bodies. But there is no Simon Sty- 
 lites now in any Christian laud. Yet let us do justice 
 
92 EVENTS AND EPOCHS IN EELIGI.OUS HISTORY. 
 
 even to this exaggerated form of self-denial. It was not 
 only the continuation of the martyr spirit, but it was a 
 reaction against the debasing luxury of the lioman Empire. 
 It was a protest against pleasure as the end of life. It 
 showed that there were in the soul high powers which 
 could lift it above all the temptations of earthly happi- 
 ness. It proved the reality of the religious sentiment to a 
 sceptical age. The Roman world saw, with astonishment, 
 men willingly resigning whatever made life dear for the 
 sake of God and holiness. If this long period of self- 
 torture has left us no other gain, let us value it as a proof 
 that in man religious aspiration is iimate, unconquerable, 
 and able to triumph over all that the world hopes, and 
 over all that it fears. And perhaps it was necessary that 
 the Roman Empire, given over to luxury and self-indul- 
 gence, should be startled by the sight of this great multi- 
 tude who sought pain, privation, suffering, poverty, — as 
 eagerly as the rest of the world were seeking sensual 
 pleasure, wealth, and comfort. 
 
 " These monks of the fourth century," says Lecky, " were a 
 body of men who, in self-denial, singleness of purpose, in heroic 
 courage and in merciless fanaticism, have seldom been sur- 
 passed. . . . Abandoning home and all luxuries, scourging 
 their bodies, living in filth and loneliness, half-starved, half- 
 naked, — they extinguished every natural sentiment. . . . No 
 reward could bribe them, no danger appall, no affection move. 
 They embraced misery with a passionate love. They took 
 a ghastly pleasure in multiplying all forms of loathsome 
 penance." 
 
 § 6. The Monhs in Convents. St. Benedict and his Ride. — 
 Eut we must pass to the Second Stage of the monastic life, 
 when it changed from the condition of the hermit, or soli- 
 tary, to that of the convent, or community life under a 
 
THE CHRISTIA.N MONKS AND MONASTIC LIFE. 93 
 
 superior and according to iniles. A new vow was now 
 added to those of poverty and chastity, — namely, obedi- 
 ence. Tliese three vows were taken by the monks of all 
 orders. Tliis system came through JJasil in tlie East, and 
 Benedict in tlic West. And here the parallel still con- 
 tinues between Asia and Europe ; for as the I>uddha, 
 Sakya-^luni, founder of the convent system in Asia, be- 
 gan his career as a solitary hermit, so St. Benedict, founder 
 of the convent system in the West, also liegan his career 
 as a hermit, living alone in a cave at Subiaco, some forty 
 miles southeast of Home, among the mountains. He was 
 of a noble race, and was only fourteen when he renounced 
 liis family, his fortune, and the world, and concealed him- 
 self in a cleft of a ravine among the peaks of the Apennines. 
 He remained in this place thirty-six years, from A.D. 480 
 to A.I). 516, when he removed to Monte Cassino, where he 
 founded the monastery which is considered the mother- 
 convent of the vast Benedictine order. Tagan worship 
 still existed in the ])lace when he arrived, and he destroyed 
 the Temple of Apollo before he began to build his own 
 church and convent. Here, on the lofty eminence over- 
 looking vast plains as far as the Mediterranean, he erected 
 oratories dedicated to John the Baptist and St. Martin, and 
 surrounded them with dwellings for his disciples, with 
 mills and storehouses, and other buildings necessary for 
 the uses of life. The monastery was to have within itself 
 all that was wanted by its inmates. Hence, when fully 
 developed, a convent was a small town, symmetrically 
 arranged, — every building in its proper place. We have 
 ])lans of some of the largest abbeys of the middle ages, 
 which show us the method of their architecture. 
 
 One of these is that of the monastery of St. Gall, erected 
 al)Out AD. 820. The vast church, with its choir, nave, 
 transepts, and chapels, formed the nucleus, or centre, of the 
 
94 EVENTS AND EPOCHS IN RELIGIOUS HISTORY. 
 
 religious life of the community. To the south was the 
 cloister, or enclosed court, with covered arcade for walks 
 around the sides, where the monks took their air and exer- 
 cise ; with a calefactory, or hot room, at one end, — heated 
 by flues below the floor — wliere they could go and warm 
 themselves when necessary. Next were the refectory for 
 eating ; the dormitories for sleep ; the chapter-house for 
 the meetings of tlie governing officers ; the library ; the 
 infirmary for the sick ; three groups of buildings devoted 
 to guests ; a school-house ; sacristy, and vestry. There 
 were separate residences for the abbot, the doctor, and the 
 school-master. Another, and smaller collection of build- 
 ings, on the same plan, was for the novices. They, also, 
 had their church, cloister, refectory, dormitory, calefactory, 
 etc. Then came the group of buildings connected with the 
 material wants of the establishment, separated from the 
 monastic buildings. These were the kitchen, buttery, 
 bakery, brewery, factories, mills, brick-kiln, workshops for 
 shoe-makers, carpenters, smiths, cutlers, tanners, with their 
 houses behind them. Besides these were stables for horses, 
 cows, sheep, goats, and pigs ; the houses for hens and ducks ; 
 the house of the gardener ; tlie baths ; kitchen-gardens ; 
 physic-gardens ; orciiards ; and, finally, the cemetery. 
 
 At Monte Cassino, Benedict prepared his rules, in 73 
 chapters, and these rules have remained unaltered for 
 1300 years. 
 
 They are based on two principles : work and obedience. 
 Idleness he declared to be the great enemy of the soul. 
 Not one hour of the day was to remain unoccupied. Seven 
 hours were given to prayer, seven to manual labor, two to 
 study, one to meditation; leaving seven to be divided 
 between sleep, meals, and refreshment. They met in thf 
 church for vicfils at two in the mornino- • for matins, a; 
 sunrise ; for vespers, at sunset. They were to obey thei 
 
THE CHRISTIAN MONKS AND MONASTIC LIFE. 95 
 
 superior in everything. They took but two meals a day, 
 at noon and eveniuL^. Tliey slept in common dormitories, 
 ten or twelve in each, with a light burning, without un- 
 dressing, and were not to speak to each other in the dor- 
 mitories. No one was to have any private property. 
 
 The change from the ascetic system a})peared at once in 
 tlie rule of Benedict. Hearing that Marlino, an old hermit 
 living in a cave, liad chained lumself to tlie rock, he went 
 to him and said : " If you are indeed a servant of God you 
 w ill scL'k to be chained, not with iron, but with the love of 
 Christ." 
 
 The rule of Benedict soon spread widely. In the days 
 of Charlemagne, about 800 A. 1)., no other order could be 
 found in all his dominions. But, as wealth increased, the 
 enforcement of their rules was relaxed. Luxury came in, 
 and after a few centuries a reform became necessary. Then 
 came various branches of lieformed Benedictines, — as the 
 order of Camaldoli, one of the strictest of all. In this 
 order the monks live in separate huts, and are not to speak 
 to each other, nor to eat together. Afterward was that of 
 Vallambrosa ; then that of the Carthusians, founded by 
 St. Bruno. This is an austere sect, first established at 
 Chartreux, in France, in a monastery called the Grande 
 Chartreuse. They have been celebrated for gardening ; 
 also for transcribing books. 
 
 The Abbey of Clairvaux belonged to the order of Re- 
 formed Benedictines called Cistercians. This was founded 
 in 1098, near Chalons, France, and soon became very popu- 
 lar, having, within a century after its origin, three thou- 
 sand alliliated monasteries. St. Charles Borromeo and St. 
 Philip Neri, as well as the Port Royalists, belonged to 
 sub-sections of this order. 
 
 All of these monastic bodies, with others which I must 
 pass by, resembled the Benedictines in their main purpose, 
 
96 EVENTS AND EPOCHS IN RELIGIOUS HISTORY. 
 
 — which was seclusion from the world, for labor and devo- 
 tion, the object being to save the soul by religious duties. 
 
 Plate X. gives a view of the Abbey of Citeaux (Cistercian), 
 near Dijon, in Burgundy, founded in 1098 by the Bene- 
 dictine abbot, Eobert of Moleme. The aim of this order 
 was to restore the Benedictines to their early simplicity. 
 They avoided splendor in their churches, and adopted a 
 strict rule of poverty and obedience. AVithin a century 
 they expanded into eighteen hundred abbeys in France, 
 Germany,' England, Ireland, Denmark, and Sweden.^ In 
 the reign of Henry VIII. there were seventy-five Cis- 
 tercian abbeys and twenty-six nunneries in England, — 
 among which were Woburn, Tintern, Furness, and Foun- 
 
 1 The ground-plan of the Abbey of Clairvaux, on the next page, will 
 give some idea of the internal arrangements of a Cistercian convent. This 
 plan, like the others in this lecture, is taken from the *' Dictionnaire 
 Raisonne de L'Architecture Fran9aise du XP an XVP siecle, par M. Viol- 
 let-le-Duc." The Abbey of Clairvaux was founded by St. Bernard. A is 
 the church, terminated at its apse by nine quadrangular chapels. Four 
 other chajiels are in each transept. B is the large cloister, surrounding 
 an open green space with a basin in the centre. C is the chapter-house. 
 D is the parlor for the monks, where alone they were permitted to speak 
 to each other, and then only on matters of necessity. E is the place where 
 they could warm themselves after their night services. F is the kitchen, 
 with running water. G is the refectory, near a wash-room, ff is the 
 cemetery. / is a small cloister, with cells for the copyists. K is the 
 infirmary and hospital buildings. L indicates rooms for the novices; 
 3f, rooms for strangers ; iV, abbot's house ; 0, cloister for infirm old men ; 
 P, the abbot's rece])tion room ; Q, cell and oratory of St. Bernard ; H, the 
 stables ; S, granaries and cellars ; U, oil-mill and saw-mill ; F, shoe- 
 maker's shop ; X, sacristy ; Y, small library. The dormitory, in the 
 second story, is reached by a stair-way near D. Above the parlor is the 
 large library, reached by stairs on the south of the church, which stairs 
 also connect the dormitory with the church. Near the cloister, /, is a 
 hall for the meeting of the monks in their conferences or polemical debates. 
 These debates were intellectual battles ; and, in the original plan, this 
 hall was styled "Thesium pro pugnando aula." Grouped around the 
 small cloister are the parts of the convent destined to intellectual exer- 
 cise, — the hall of debate, the library, and the cells of the copyists. 
 
Plate X. — GrouuJ Plau of Abbey of Clairvaux. 
 
98 EVENTS AND EPOCHS IN RELIGIOUS HISTORY. 
 
 tain; and in^Scotland, Melrose and others. But riches 
 and indolence led this great order to its decline and 
 ruin. 
 
 The Cistercian rule, adopted in 1119, says of the build- 
 ings : " The monastery shall be so constructed as to unite 
 in itself everything necessary, — as water, a mill, a garden, 
 and workshops of different kinds. The church shall be 
 very simple, containing no paintings or sculpture, — the 
 windows of clear white glass." 
 
 In the plan of the mother-abbey of the order, we see 
 this law of simplicity. By an avenue of trees one arrives 
 at the entrance, 0, by the side of which is a chapel, D. 
 As soon as the brother at the gate hears a knock he rises 
 and says Deo gr alias, tlianking God for an opportunity to 
 extend hospitality. Opening the gate he says Benedicite, 
 and goes to inform the abbot of the arrival. The abbot 
 leaves every engagement and goes to welcome the God- 
 sent guest, and conducts him to the chapel for a short 
 prayer. Then the stranger is committed to the care of the 
 brother who has the charge of strangers, and not only 
 takes care of the man but of his beast, for which purpose 
 there is a stable at F, near the inner door, E. By this door 
 one enters a court surrounded with granaries, stables, and a 
 large building, G-, for the lay-brethren. H is the house 
 for the abbot and his guests. N is the church ; B, the 
 large cloister ; K, the refectory ; /, the kitchen ; M, the 
 dormitories ; 0, the small cloister ; P, the cells of the 
 copyists, with the library above ; R, the large infirmary. 
 A wall surrounds all the buildings. 
 
 § 7. The Mendicant Orders. St. Dominic and St. Fran^ 
 CIS. — We now come to the third principal form of monas- 
 ticism, that of the mendicant orders ; and especially the 
 Dominicans and Franciscans. 
 
 The first monks were solitaries, living alone in the 
 

 Plate XI. — View of the Abbey of Cidaiix. 
 
100 EVENTS AND EPOCHS IN RELIGIOUS HISTORY. 
 
 desert. The second class of mouks were separated from 
 the world, but living together in cloisters. The next who 
 came lived in convents, but came out of them to work 
 among men as pastors and brothers. They were to look 
 after the stray sheep ; to advise, comfort, warn, help the 
 common people anywhere and everyw^here. They were to 
 own nothing, and support themselves and their convents 
 by begging. Thus came the great movement of the thir- 
 teenth century, which has been well compared, by Hallam, 
 to the Methodist movement in the eighteenth. The Men- 
 dicant Friars, like the Methodists, were the democrats in 
 religion, putting themselves by the side of the common 
 people as friends and brothers. The word "friar," frere, 
 means " brother ; " and they renounced the priestly title of 
 Father for this humbler one of Brother, They fulfilled that 
 part of the work of Christ, so often neglected by the 
 church, of preaching the Gospel to the poor. The old 
 monastic orders had accumulated wealth ; wealth gradually 
 produced habits of luxury; and thus they became sepa- 
 rated from the people. The Mendicants made themselves 
 poor that tliey might be in sympathy with the poor. Like 
 the Buddhist monks, of whom they had never heard, they 
 were to own no property as individuals nor as communities, 
 but were to support themselves by begging from house to 
 house. Now the type of monasticism was changed again. 
 Instead of living in-doors, in seclusion, they lived out-of- 
 doors, in society. Instead of being shut up in one place, 
 they wandered everywhere. Instead of flying from the 
 world to save their own souls, they went into the world to 
 save the souls of others. Like the Methodists, they went 
 to find the stray sheep, to look for those whom the church 
 had neglected. Like the Methodists, they were itinerant 
 preachers, out-of-door ministers. They administered the 
 eucharist on a portable altar. Like the IMethodists, they 
 
THE CHRISTIAN MONKS AND MONASTIC LIFE. 101 
 
 drew crowds to liear them, and caused the parish churches 
 to be deserted. TraveUiiig from house to house, they were 
 every wliere at home amon«^ the people, — their advisers, 
 sympathizers ; rejoicing with those who rejoiced, weeping 
 with those who wept. 
 
 The two greatest of these orders, the Dominicans and 
 Franciscans, arose almost simultaneously, yet independ- 
 ently, the Dominicans in 12 10, and the Fmnciscans in 
 122:1 
 
 The founders of these two orders, Dominic and Francis, 
 were wholly different men, only alike in a common desire 
 to reform the church, and reach tlie souls of the poor. 
 Dominic was a thinker, scholar, and a scholastic ; Francis 
 was a man of heart, affection, aspiration. Dominic was a 
 dogmatic theologian; a persecutor of heretics; "kind to 
 his friends, cruel to his enemies," says Dante ; unscrupu- 
 lous, inaccessible to pity ; the wise serpent of the church. 
 Francis was the gentle dove, who fled from the world to 
 espouse the " Lady Poverty ; " poetic and passionate. " The 
 one," says Dante again, " was a cherub in wisdom, the 
 other a seraph in love." 
 
 Dominic, Domingo, a Spaniard, born in 1170, was distin- 
 guished, wlien a boy, for his deep religious convictions and 
 his love of knowledge. He became early a preacher, monk, 
 and misssionary ; and went to the South of France, where 
 lieresies of all kinds prevailed, and where the people had 
 become almost wholly alienated from the Catholic Church. 
 He tried to convert these heretics by going among them as 
 a brother and friend; but failing in this effort, and the 
 Pope having ordered a crusade against the Albigenses, 
 Dominic had to decide whether to resist this great cruelty 
 or to follow as one of its abettors. Unfortunately he chose 
 the latter course, and to him was committed the taslv of 
 sentencing to the stake those whom he decided to be 
 
102 EVENTS AND EPOCHS IN RELIGIOUS HISTORY. 
 
 heretics. As the logical consequence of this course, the 
 Dominicans had the control afterward of the Inquisition 
 in all lands ; but the Dominicans were also great preachers 
 and scholars, and from them came St. Thomas Aquinas, 
 the Prince of Eoman Catholic theology. 
 
 Tlie thirteenth century was a memorable one in many 
 ways. It saw Magna Charta signed in England ; it wit- 
 nessed the vast Mogul conquests in Asia ; it beheld Gen- 
 gis Khan threatening the civiHzation of Europe ; and 
 the Papal Crusade destroying the civilization of Southern 
 France. In this century the pointed architecture reached 
 its highest degree of development, for then arose the cathe- 
 drals of Antwerp and Cologne, of Brussels and Ghent, of 
 Salisbury and Westminster, of Amiens and Reims, — 
 and a multitude of others. It was the epoch of the Schol- 
 astics, of Albertus Magnus and Thomas Aquinas, of Bona- 
 ventura and Roger Bacon. Dante lived in this century, 
 and Cimabue ; Rodolph of Hapsburg founded the Austrian 
 Empire, and the First Edward conquered Wales and Scot- 
 land. But of all the events of the period, none was more 
 important to mankind than the rise of the mendicant 
 orders ; for they brought about a revival of religion, and 
 saved the Roman Church from its tendency to corruption 
 and decay, — as the Jesuits saved it afterward. These 
 preaching friars afterward became also corrupt, and, in 
 their turn, outlived their usefulness ; yet they did a good 
 work in their time. 
 
 We have in Plate XII. a sjood illustration of a convent 
 of the order of begging friars called Augustines, or Augus- 
 tinians. They were also called Begging-Hermits, Bare- 
 foot Friars, or Austin Friars. They adopted their rules 
 as mendicants in the thirteenth century. 
 
 The bird's-eye view here given of St. Marie de Vaux- 
 verts, near Brussels, built at the close of the tifteeuth century, 
 
Plate XII. — Mouasterv of ilic AiiL:ii,->tiii(.- Moiik^, iii'.ir IJius.slIs. 
 
104 EVENTS AND EPOCHS IN RELIGIOUS PISTORY. 
 
 shows US the church, A, very plain, without transept or 
 towers ; B, the library , C and D, the dormitories ; JS, the 
 monks' cloister ; F, the cloister for lay-brethren ; G, the 
 refectory ; H, the infirmary ; /, the kitchen ; K, rooms 
 for male guests ; L, for female guests ; M, houses for me- 
 chanics ; iV", house of the emperor Charles V. ; 0, an oak 
 under which, as is said, seven crowned heads were once 
 assembled; P, principal entrance; B, cow-houses and grana- 
 ries ; S, gardens, alleys, chapels, groves of trees, etc. 
 
 The monasteries built in the thirteenth century assumed 
 a military character, as shown in Plate XIII. The abbots 
 were now feudal vassals, and did militaiy service. Instead 
 of being built in valleys, for agricultural purposes, like the 
 early Cistercian convents, the abbeys were erected in de- 
 fensible positions, like that on Mount St. Michael. This 
 monastery, built in 1260, sustained several sieges, and was 
 only taken by an English army in 1422. Our plate shows 
 an abbey of St. Allyre, at Clermont, in Auvergne, France, 
 half-monastic and lialf-military. A is the gate, defended 
 by a tower ; V, the stables. i> indicates an outside en- 
 closure defended by low walls, leading to a second battle- 
 mented gate by which one enters a passage commanded by 
 the church, B, well fortified with an indented parapet. The 
 apse of the church is defended by two towers. One com- 
 mands the passage, the other the entrance S. Through this 
 fortified gate we enter G, the cloister. B and F are donjon- 
 keeps, commanding the courts and lower buildings. / 
 shows the dormitories ; K, the refectory ; L, the kitchen ; 
 H, the library; 0, the infirmary; M, the abbot's house; 
 X, the granaries and cellars. Gardens and orchards are at 
 P and T. 
 
 The order of Chartreux was founded at the end of the 
 eleventh century, by St. Bruno, having a more austere rule 
 than that of Citeaux. It required the monks to fast every 
 
,/>> ^ ^*^ 
 
 
 
 Plate XIII. — Fort iQcd Convent, Abbey of St. Allyrc. 
 
106 EVENTS AND EPOCHS IN RELIGIOUS HISTORY. 
 
 Friday on bread and water, to abstain altogether from 
 meat, even in case of illness, to wear a coarse robe, and to 
 live in the most absolute solitude. Only the prior and 
 factor of the monastery could ever go outside of its walls. 
 Each monk had his own cell, which he must not leave. 
 He must keep a perpetual silence, saluting his brother 
 monks without speech. The principal house of this order 
 was la Grande-Chartreuse, near Grenoble. 
 
 The plan on the opposite page, Plate XIV., is of the 
 Chartreuse of Clermont, as modified in 1676. is the 
 entrance, opening to a court, around which are rooms for 
 guests ; 'cifoiirnil, or bakehouse, is at T. At iV^are stables, 
 with rooms for the cowherds ; at Q, granaries. C is a 
 small elevated court, with a fountain, reserved for the 
 prior ; G, his rooms ; B, the room for the choir ; A, the 
 sanctuary ; Z, the sacristy ; M, chapels ; E, chapter-house ; S, 
 a small cloister ; Jf, the refectory ; V, the kitchen ; D, large 
 enclosure, surrounded by the galleries of the cloister ; R, 
 watch-towers ; Z, the prison ; /, the cells ; H, a dove-house. 
 
 Each cell had a gallery to shut out external sounds ; a 
 small garden ; a room which could be warmed ; another 
 containing a bed, a bench, a table, and a book-shelf; a 
 tower, by which food was introduced, but so arranged that 
 the monk could not see what was passing outside. Only 
 on certain festivals were these monks allowed to eat in 
 common. 
 
 Of the Jesuits I am to speak afterward. Of the military 
 monks T have nothing to say. Like all warriors, all sol- 
 diers, their influence on human progress was negative, not 
 positive, — only to check and arrest, not to create. War 
 may prevent evil, and so be negatively a good. It arrested 
 at Marathon the destructive power of Persia ; it arrested at 
 Gettysburg the destructive power of Slavery. It may 
 break the yoke of the oppressor, and resist the advance of 
 
G 
 
 
 -«-i-«- 
 
 Jj 
 
 I I 
 
 J « ri ■ -aj[. 
 
 ( ! 
 
 FTT 
 
 J! 
 
 
 ^1 
 
 s 
 
 1 
 
 — JJ- It 
 
 ■o 
 
 
 
 
 fipr^ 
 
 
 »o N; 
 
 II Jmiinp " P 77 1^ 
 
 n 
 
 Plate XIV. — Ground Plan of Chartreuse of Clermont. 
 
108 EVENTS AND EPOCHS IN RELIGIOUS HISTOEY. 
 
 despotism ; but the seeds of growth are not in it, and it is 
 the least interesting fact in human history. 
 
 St. Francis, the founder of the great Franciscan order, 
 was born at Assisi in 1228. The love of nature was an 
 instinct in his soul, developed perhaps by the beautiful 
 scenery of the Umbrian hills. Assisi stands on their 
 slope, overlooking a vast and fertile plain which stretches 
 out to where Perugia lifts itself out of the blue horizon. 
 The portrait of St. Francis indicates dignity, a clear intelli- 
 gence, generous sympathy, and refinement of character. A 
 phrenologist would notice the great development of ven- 
 eration and the other religious sentiments, the powerful 
 organs of perception, and the weight of the propelling fac- 
 ulties. The expression of his face has nothing of the 
 ascetic. It is not after the type of the mediaeval saint. 
 He does not hang his head with conventional humility, 
 but carries it erect, with a soldierly manliness. His eye 
 is full of fire ; and, to characterize his features in one 
 phrase, we may say that they are those of a Christian 
 gentleman. 
 
 What the face indicates, — that was the man. In his 
 youth — gay, extravagant, fond of dress, living for pleasure, 
 serving as a soldier in a war with Perugia, — he seemed 
 intended for the highest secular or military honors. His 
 father and mother said : " He is like the son of a prince ; 
 not like our son," — encouraging his lavish generosity. 
 Yet while sinoincr love-son^s in the streets of Assisi with 
 his gay companions, and squandering his father's money in 
 midnight revels, — "if," says his latest biograplier, "some 
 poor creature thrust out a supplicating hand by the way- 
 side, he was ever ready to pause with that sweet com- 
 punction of superior happiness which is so beautiful in 
 youth." " Liheralis et hilaris'' said his friends ; all glad- 
 ness in his outward life, and yet the living stream of nobler 
 
TIIE CHRISTIAN MONKS AND MONASTIC LIFE. 109 
 
 aspimtions ran deep below, ready to a])pear when the call 
 came. 
 
 A ill of illness, at twenty-five years of age, awakened 
 his better nature. Soon after, going out, lie met a beggar 
 in tattered garments, whom lie recognized as having been 
 one of the richest men in the place. Immediately he gave 
 him his own rich dress, and took tiie torn coat of the 
 beggar in exchange. This was his first courtship of his 
 I'uture bride, " The Lady Poverty." 
 
 Shortly after, while kneeling for worship in an old 
 church which had become dilapidated, he heard a voice 
 saying : *' Francis ! seest thou not that my house is in 
 ruins ? Go and restore it for me ! " " With good-will, 
 Lord," he instantly replied, supposing that he was called 
 to repair the old church ; but he afterward found that it 
 was an invitation to rebuild and purify the Christian 
 Church Universal. 
 
 In his twenty-sixth year he devoted himself to religion. 
 It was not his purpose to be a monk, but simply to give 
 up all else in order to preach to men the Kingdom of 
 God. Although rejoicing in self-sacrifice, devoted to re- 
 nunciation, he was never a mere ascetic. His jjrood com- 
 mon-sense presers-ed him from this. But he accepted, in 
 the most literal sense, the saying of Christ : " Provide 
 neither gold nor silver nor brass in your purses; neither 
 two coats, nor shoes, nor staff; but go and preach. The 
 Kingdom of Heaven is at hand." He devoted himself 
 and his followers to absolute poverty. Other monastic 
 orders renounced wealth for their individual members, but 
 accepted vast property for the use of the community. Fran- 
 cis determined that neither as individuals nor as a com- 
 nuinity should his followers have anything but the most 
 meagre necessaries of life. His order fell away from this 
 rule, and became proprietors of large estates ; but not 
 
110 EVENTS AND EPOCHS IN EELIGIOUS HISTORY. 
 
 while he lived. He took a coarse robe and tied it round 
 his body with a cord, from which came one of the names 
 of the order, Cordeliers. He and his followers were to live 
 by begging ; but they were not to be idle. They preached 
 and prayed, they helped the sick and suffering, and sought 
 to be useful in all ways. 
 
 Francis rejoiced in nature as a manifestation of God. 
 He wandered over the Umbrian hills, praising God for his 
 works. He blessed the Lord for the sun and moon ; for 
 " Brother Day " and " Sister Night ; " for his Mother the 
 Earth ; for the jocund fire, the flowers, and stars. Every- 
 thing which God made became a person and a friend. 
 Hearing a multitude of birds singing, he said to his com- 
 panions : " Our sisters, the birds, are praising their Maker. 
 Let us go into their midst and sing to the Lord the Canoni- 
 cal Hours." When the brethren were not able to hear 
 each other, on account of the twittering and chirping, the 
 lesfend narrates that Francis turned to the birds and said : 
 " Sisters ! Cease your song till we have rendered praise to 
 God ; " and the birds were all silent. Another tale nar- 
 rates that the swallows once interrupted his sermon by 
 their twittering ; whereupon Francis turned to these sweet 
 disturbers of his discourse and said courteously : " My sis- 
 ters, it is now time for me to speak. Since you have had 
 your say, listen in your turn to the word of God, and be 
 silent till the sermon is finished." Of course, they obeyed. 
 Other stories tell us of hares and rabbits hiding themselves, 
 from their pursuers, in his robe. Lambs were his special 
 favorites. In another story we hear of a fierce wolf which 
 was doing much harm, and which no single man ventured 
 to attack. Francis went to find it, and when the wolf 
 came toward him with open mouth, he made the sign of 
 the cross over it and said :' " Come hither, Brother Wolf ; 
 I command thee, in Christ's name, that thou do no evil to 
 
THE CHRISTIAN MONKS AND MONASTIC LIFE. Ill 
 
 me or to others." Then the wolf came aud crouched at 
 tlie feet of the saint, who exhorted him as follows: 
 "Brother wolf! thou hast done much damage in these 
 parts, slaying the creatures of God ; — wherefore men mean 
 to kill thee; but I will make peace between thee and 
 them, and will see that thou hast food every day if thou 
 wilt promise to kill' no more creatures." The wolf having 
 nodded assent, Francis led him to the town, and explained 
 the arrangement ; and afterward the townsfolk fed the wolf, 
 wlio did no more harm. These little stories are probably 
 pleasant fictions, which, nevertheless, indicate the character 
 of tlie man. 
 
 The Pope giving his permission, Francis established his 
 order of Begging Brothers, or friars; which — needing no 
 foundation, no costly building, nor land — spread among 
 the people so that at the first Chapter, held two years 
 after its establishment, five thousand of the brothers were 
 present. Francis had made no preparation to feed this 
 great multitude, but tlie people of the neighboring towns 
 brought food in abundance. The brethren made tents 
 for themselves out of mats, whence this was called the 
 " Chapter of Mats." 
 
 Francis was seized with the desire of converting the 
 head of the Mohammedan church ; and so, taking his life 
 in Ids hand, he w^ent through the lines of the Crusaders into 
 the camp of the Sultan at Damietta, and preached to him. 
 He was treated kindly and dismissed courteously. 
 
 The order multiplied rapidly. Twenty-four years after his 
 death it had 8,0U0 convents and 200,000 monks. It was 
 subdivided into many smaller bodies, such as the Capuchins, 
 Minorites, Observants, Recollects, Fraticellians, and others. 
 The wonderful extension of this order appears from the 
 marvellous fact that in the next century, in the terrible 
 plague of the Black Ueath, 124,000 Franciscans fell vie- 
 
112 EVENTS AND EPOCHS IN RELIGIOUS HISTORY. 
 
 tims to their zeal in the care of the sick and dying. Fran- 
 cis received the name of the Seraphic Father ; St. Clara 
 was called the Seraphic Mother ; and St. Buonaventura 
 was the Seraphic Doctor. Besides these great names, there 
 were associated with this body, St. Anthony of Padua; 
 St. Louis, King of France ; St. Elizabeth of Hungary ; St. 
 Margaret of Cortona ; Duns Scotus ; Iloger Bacon ; Cardi- 
 nal Ximenes ; and five or six popes. The spirit of love, 
 which was in their founder, long continued to distinguish 
 this body of Grey Friars ; tliough this order also finally de- 
 generated, like the rest, into habits of idleness and luxury. 
 
 § 8. The Monastic teindency in Protestantism. — Although 
 the Eeformation rejected the monastic system, yet the same 
 tendency in human nature to fly the world, and to seek per- 
 sonal salvation by acts of renunciation, devotion, aud charity, 
 has reappeared from time to time among Protestants, 
 
 One of these Protestant monastic orders is that of the 
 Moravians. This society was established in 1722, by fol- 
 lowers of John Huss who were exiled from Bohemia and 
 Moravia. They settled on the estate of Count Zinzendorf, 
 in Saxony. To this settlement they gave the name of 
 Hernhut, or the Shelter of God. The Moravians usually 
 live in colonies, and are devoted to missions which they 
 have carried on with great zeal, especially in Greenland, 
 Labrador, the West Indies, and among the Tartars in 
 Siberia. In 1875 they had in Europe 68 congregations, 
 witli about 9,000 communicants ; in America, 75 congrega- 
 tions, with nearly the same number of communicants as in 
 Europe. They had 92 mission-stations, with 333 mission- 
 aries and 90,000 converts. 
 
 The chief development of the Protestant monastic life in 
 the United States is in the system of the Shakers. This 
 is the oldest, the most thoroughly organized, and the most 
 flourishing of all. It was founded in 1782, by Anne Lee, at 
 
THE CHKI3TIAN MONKS AND MONASTIC LIFE. 113 
 
 Lebanon in N. Y. She was born in Alancliester, England, 
 in 1746. When twenty-four years old she joined some 
 Quakers, and was thrown into jail for their peculiar religious 
 manifestations. While there she had inward visions, like 
 those of Buddha and George Fox, in which were revealed 
 to her, as she deemed, the nature of things and the laws of 
 the universe. She cume to America in 1774, with some 
 of her foUowiTS, where she made converts to lier views. 
 
 The Shakers have eighteen societies scattered through 
 the Union, containing about twenty-five hundred })ersons 
 in all, of whom about two-thirds are women. They hold 
 to celibacy ; to a community of goods ; and to prudence, 
 temperance, economy, and cleanliness in all things. They 
 reject pictures, ornaments, and amusements, and have little 
 to do with art or literature. They believe in so-called 
 spiritualism and its manifestations ; reject the -doctrines of 
 the trinity and atonement, — believing that Christ is the 
 chief of spirits, who was first embodied in Jesus, and after- 
 ward in mother Anne Lee. Finally, they consider them- 
 selves to be the only true church. 
 
 Another important monastic community is that founded 
 by Rapp, and situated at Economy, on tlie Ohio River, a short 
 distance below Pittsburg. It has adopted celibacy, tliough 
 the men and women do not live in diflerent houses like 
 the Shakers. They have also their property in common, 
 and have become wealthy as a community by industry 
 and systematic economy. Like the Shakers, tliey practise 
 obedience to their religious superiors. In return, ample 
 provision is made for the comfort of all the members, both 
 in youth and age, health and sickness. The Society has 
 continued more than seventy years, and has accumulated 
 property amounting to two or three millions of dollars. It 
 now numbers ouly about 120 persons, with 20 or 30 
 adopted children. 
 
 8 
 
114 EVENTS AND EPOCHS IN RELIGIOUS HISTORY. 
 
 There are other societies of a somewhat similar char- 
 acter in the United States, described by Mr. Nordhoff.^ 
 Such are the Amana Society, in Iowa, containing 1,450 
 members, consisting of Germans, and founded on religion ; 
 and the Separatists, at Zoar in Ohio, — also Germans, and 
 holding a mystical religious faith. The last have their 
 property in common, have 300 members, and are now 
 worth a million of dollars, though beginning in poverty. 
 Other societies described by Nordhoff are the Oneida Per- 
 fectionists ; the Aurora and Bethel communities ; the Ica- 
 rians ; the Cedar Vale Commune ; the Social Freedom 
 Community ; and co-operation communities, which do not 
 hold common property, at Vineland and elsewhere. Eight 
 hold property in common ; and these number five thou- 
 sand persons, own some two hundred thousand acres of 
 land, and their combined wealth amounts to twelve mil- 
 lions of dollars. Besides these communities, which may be 
 regarded as successful, there have been more than fifty 
 which have failed. 
 
 Of the three vows of obedience, poverty, and celibacy, 
 taken by all the monastic orders in the Roman Catholic 
 Church, all of these communities adopt the first and sec- 
 ond. All submit implicitly to the rule of their superior ; 
 and all, like the monasteries, hold property not as indi- 
 viduals but as a community. Two, the Shakers and 
 Rappists, take the third vow, of celibacy. Tlie others, 
 with the exception of the Oneida Perfectionists, adopt 
 family life. All live in comfort, are free from anxiety 
 about their future support, enjoy good health and long- 
 life. They are neat, honest, humane, charitable, temperate. 
 All, except one or two, are based on religious faith, in some 
 particular form. Nevertheless, out of the fifty millions of 
 
 1 "The Communistic Societies of the United States;" by Charles 
 Noi'dlioii', 1875 ; from which these statistics are mostly taken. 
 
THE ClIUISTIAN MONKS AND MONASTIC LIFE. 115 
 
 people in the United States, only about live thousand, as 
 we have seen, enter tliese Protestant monasteries. 01' these, 
 many are persons wlio have not enough energy for the 
 contiict of life, — who prefer comfort with peace, to excite- 
 ment and hope. 
 
 Why, we may ask, is tliere so little of the monastic 
 lite ill Trotestant- countries ? Why was Protestantism, 
 from the very first, the destruction of this system ? The 
 main reason, no doubt, was that Protestantism itself sat- 
 isfied spiritual and moral needs which had driven people 
 into monasteries. ^len entered monasteries because sacra- 
 mental reliijion was not sufficient for them. The church 
 offered to save their souls by baptism, absolution, and the 
 eucharist. According to the Roman Catholic theory this 
 was euougli. Any niember of the church partaking of its 
 sacraments was sure of eternal life. The monastic system 
 did not deny this in words, but contradicted it in action, 
 by providing another way of salvation, — namely, by as- 
 cetic sacrifices, tlie practice of piety and works of charity. 
 One proof of this divergence is in the fact that the " regu- 
 lars " were taken from the control of the secular clergy, 
 emancipated from the rule of their bishops, and made 
 suV)ject only to the Pope himself. The divergence of the 
 systems was so great that tlie abbots of monasteries 
 could not be subject to the authority of the diocesan 
 bishop. 
 
 When Protestantism came, it at once established, as its 
 fundamental principle, that the soul is not saved by sacra- 
 ments but by faith ; and faith, in their sense, included all 
 the practices of piety and charity by wliich the monastery 
 proposed to save the soul. 
 
 But wliile Protestantism thus adopted the substance of 
 the so-called religious life, it opposed the outward methods 
 of seclusion from the world, and the triple vows. It op- 
 
116 EVENTS AND EPOCHS IN RELIGIOUS HISTORY. 
 
 posed all enforced celibacy, obedience to a human superior, 
 and absolute poverty. Experience had conclusively shown 
 that these vows did not, in the long run, tend to holy 
 living. Protestantism means liberty and progress, both of 
 which are impossible under this monastic regime. It 
 therefore put an end to these institutions, — first by sat- 
 isfying the need from which they sprang; and, next, by 
 rejecting the theory on which they were organized. 
 
 Of the monk as an anchorite or hermit we have fewer 
 instances still in our day and land. Occasionally a 
 man may be found living by himself in the woods, being 
 either alienated from society by ill-treatment ; or being, by 
 some special idiosyncrasy, incapacitated for the conflict of 
 life among men. The most noticeable example of the 
 modern hermit was, perhaps, Henry Thoreau, of Concord, 
 Mass. Thoreau built a hut in the woods, near his native 
 town of Concord, and lived there alone for two or three 
 years. Mr. Emerson says of him : " Few lives contain so 
 many renunciations. Bred to no profession, never mar- 
 ried, — he lived alone, never went to church, never voted, 
 refused to pay a tax to the state, ate no flesh, drank no 
 wine, never knew the taste of tobacco ; and, tliough a 
 naturalist, never used a trap or a gun." This may seem 
 much in our day ; though thousands of idlers may be 
 found who never go to church, never vote, never pay taxes, 
 have no profession, and are not married. Compared wdth 
 the self-denials of the Christian ascetics of the fourth cen- 
 tury, Thoreau's life was one of self-indulgence ; and, indeed, 
 many a graduate of Harvard gave up his home, marriage, 
 and profession, and encountered greater hardship and iso- 
 lation, serving in the war for Union and Freedom, — with 
 danger of sickness and death beside. All depends on the 
 motive for which renunciations are made. In Thoreau's 
 case it seemed to be an experiment, — a wish to learn 
 
THE CHRISTIAN MONKS AND MONASTIC LIFE. 117 
 
 what is the minimum of human needs for a man of re- 
 fined tastes and culture. Having tried his experiment for 
 a year or two, he resumed his place in society. His dis- 
 tinction is that of an accomplished naturalist and observer, 
 and his hermit life nmst be regarded as an episode. It 
 was merely " camping out " a little longer than usual. So 
 that his wood seolusion forms no exception to the rule 
 that the age of hermits and cenobites has been wholly out- 
 grown. Men are now able, if they choose, to be in the 
 world and yet not worldly. Tlie idea of religion has ad- 
 vanced thus far, and we cannot go back again to the lower 
 level of mere self-denial for its own sake. Man is still 
 equal, as many facts show, to self-den icil for the sake of 
 others, — for tlie sake of the country, for the sake of free- 
 dom, justice, luimanity. Livingstone in Africa, with his 
 sweet, strong, humane pur[)0sc, is a far higher type of self- 
 denial than St. Anthony in the desert or St. Simon on his 
 pillar. The young men who left happy homes and glad 
 hopes, to die at the call of duty in the great war for Free- 
 dom and Union, were nobler confessors of Christ than the 
 squalid monks of the Thebaid. The power of martyrdom 
 still lives in every soul where conscience is supreme, but 
 it now appears only when God calls for it by offering a 
 noble cause. Then it manifests itself once more, showing 
 that: — 
 
 " So ni;^'b is grandeur to our dust, 
 
 So close is God to man, — 
 When duty whispers low 'Thou must !* 
 
 The hoy replies ' I can ! ' " 
 
 § 9. Tlic Lcs>ions of Monasticisni. — The study of monasti- 
 cism teaches us many lessons. It sliows what an aspiration 
 there is in human nature for the highest good. It shows 
 how, for the sake of coming nearer to God, men will re- 
 
118 EVENTS AND EPOCHS IN RELIGIOUS HISTORY. 
 
 nounce all earthly pleasure and joy, — glorying in afflic- 
 tions and not counting life dear. It teaches what a 
 sublime power of self-denial is in man ; how he can rise 
 above himself, and conquer all natural desires, in the pur- 
 suit of an ideal good. It thus sets aside and confutes those 
 theories of human nature which rest on materialistic or 
 selfish indulgence. When any calm philosopher, specu- 
 lating in his study, tells us that the strongest motive 
 in man is the desire of personal enjoyment, — human 
 nature refutes that small theory by the voice of the 
 anchorites of India, the monks of Buddhism, of Moham- 
 medanism, of Judea, of ancient Egypt, and of fifteen centu- 
 ries of Christendom. 
 
 Monasticism, in its various phases, shows the remarkable 
 power which exists in the Christian religion to develop 
 new forms suited to new occasions. Christianity is like a 
 tree, ever putting forth new shoots. Old institutions de- 
 cay and disappear; new ones arise and take their place. 
 The anchorites, who once gave the highest tyj)e of religion 
 to the world, have passed wholly away. Seclusion took 
 the place of solitude. Useful labor replaced useless self- 
 torture. Then came the time when the monks emerged 
 from their cloisters to teach the young, to mingle with the 
 poor in their homes, to preach in the fields. But the 
 period of monastic life seems now drawing to an end. The 
 thriving orders now in the Catholic Church are scarcely 
 different from missionary bodies, philanthropic societies, or 
 benevolent associations. The convent system has followed 
 the system of hermits and anchorites into decay and death. 
 Eoman Catholic nations have suppressed the monasteries, 
 sequestered their property and put it to other uses. That 
 which England did, when Henry VIII. turned adrift 50,000 
 monks and nuns and took their property, has been done 
 since by Spain, Portugal, and Italy, — all of them Eoman 
 
THE CIIUISTIAN MONKS AND MONASTIC LIFE. 119 
 
 (Jatliolic nali(jiis. This would have bcc.'u impossible uuless 
 these monasteries had long since ceased to be of use to the 
 church or to the world. 
 
 In England, in the time of Henry VIII., there was one 
 monk or nun to every ten persons. In Spain, at the end 
 of the last century, there v^^ere 100,000 in the monasteries, 
 or one to every hundred of the population. All convents 
 in Spain were suppressed in 1836, and their property con- 
 fiscated ; and rio Nono, by a Roman Concordat, in 1850, 
 accepted the principle of this suppression. In Italy, in 
 18G5, there were 2,380 religious houses, containing 29,000 
 l)ersons. In 18G6 these were suppressed, and their prop- 
 erty confiscated. In Portugal the monasteries and nun- 
 neries were suppressed in 1834, and about 18,000 monks 
 and nuns turned into the world In these countries the 
 Koman Catholic Church was supreme ; and, therefore, the 
 ease with which such institutions were abolished shows 
 that they had ceased to have any influence on the people, 
 < )r to be of any use to the church. 
 
 Protestantism dealt a fatal blow to monasticism in bring- 
 ing into light Christ's own method : " In the world, but 
 not worldly." 
 
 The day of monasticism has passed. People do not now 
 enter Catholic convents to practise austerities and so save 
 the soul ; but to teach children, to become Sisters of Mercy, 
 to study to l)e priests, to become preachers. The eye of 
 every convent is now turned toward the world. Convents 
 were formerly established to look away from the world. 
 Xow they are instruments to carry on Christian work 
 amonsf men. 
 
 Yet in their time thev did much and varied good. Thev 
 were a refuge for the weak amid the storms, ruin, and 
 op})ression of the early ages of Christendom. They were 
 l)eaceful islands in the midst of a wide raging sea. They 
 
120 EVENTS AND EPOCHS IN EELIGIOUS HISTORY. 
 
 preserved for us the history of the past. They kept knowl- 
 edge alive in the world. They made labor honorable. En- 
 gaging in agriculture, horticulture, and many arts of life, 
 they became teachers of these to others. 
 
 One lovely and cheerful picture emerges from the dark- 
 ness and fuiy of the Merovingian epoch in France, which 
 we find told by both Thierry and Montalembert, each in 
 his own way. It is the story of St. Kadegund, wife of 
 Clotaire. She was the daughter of a Thuringian king, 
 made captive in 529, and was taken by Clotaire, son of 
 Clovis, as one of his wives. Lovely in face, with a taste 
 for study, she shrank from the ferocity of her husband and 
 his court. She associated with the bishops, the only men 
 of learning to whom she had access, and at last lied from 
 her husband's atrocities and took refuge in a convent, where 
 she finally obtained the King's reluctant permission to re- 
 main. She established at Poitiers a convent for women, 
 brouglit into it two hundred girls, and there passed the 
 last years of her life, not only in religious exercises, but 
 also in reading and composing poems, taking care of her 
 flowers, and conversing on religious and literary subjects 
 with the young people about her. She permitted her nuns 
 to go out and visit their friends, and their friends to come 
 in and visit them. They even had dramatic entertain- 
 ments. A troubadour, Venantius Fortunatus, visiting the 
 convent, remained there for many years, writing poems 
 and hymns for Eadegund, and recording for us the happy 
 and pure friendship which existed between the Queen, tlie 
 Abbess, and himself. In the midst of tlie vast Sea of Ice 
 which pours down from Mont Blanc, travellers love to 
 visit a little spot containing a few green buslies, glasses and 
 flowers, which flourish surrounded by the moving mass of 
 frozen river. So, amid the cruelties vnd terrors of the 
 sixth century, such a little spot of peace and innocent hap- 
 
THE CIIRISTIAI^J MONKS AND MONASTIC LIFE. 121 
 
 piness as the convent of Kadegund, attracts and pleases 
 the mind. 
 
 Every monastery was bound to be a centre of hospitality 
 and charity. By the monks the poor were protected, tlie 
 nobles overawed, the sick tended, the traveller sheltered, 
 the prisoner ransomed. A hermit would sometimes estab- 
 lish himself, with a boat, by a bridgeless stream, and de- 
 vote himself to ferrying travellers across. When leprosy 
 shocked and disgusted Europe, the monks founded hos- 
 pitals to relieve it. The [)ilgrim who went from afar to 
 see some saint famous for his lioliness and miracles, and 
 found him in the fields or in a workshop at labor, took 
 away a new idea of the dignity of toil. The monasteries 
 were sanctuaries to which the persecuted fled for refuge. 
 They sent out missionaries who converted the savage in- 
 •vaders from the North and the East, and spread the seeds 
 of a future civilization from Lombardy to Sweden. Within 
 the monastery thought was comparatively free ; the studies 
 of natural history and physical science were there earned 
 on ; and such men as EoGjer Bacon and Erif^ena studied 
 and thought in the libraries of the convents, — the only 
 libraries then in Europe. 
 
 How happened it then, since the monks did so much good 
 and grew into such wealth and power, that the monastic 
 institutions fell so utterly into ruin ? The usual answer is 
 that their usefulness and devotion made them the objects 
 of reverence and love; this brought to tliem wealth and 
 power; wealth and power brought corrujition and ill-will. 
 So far as it goes, this is true. Every abbey, as it became 
 rich, relaxed its rules. Exempt from the supervision of 
 bishops, tlie inmates at last came to do " what M-as right in 
 their own eyes." Protected by the " benefit of clergy " from 
 the authority of the secular magistrate, they could commit 
 the worst crimes with comparative impunity. They were 
 
122 EVENTS AND EPOCHS IN RELIGIOUS HISTORY. 
 
 an aristocracy, with greater wealth and power than had 
 belonged to the feudal barons, who were, in many coun- 
 tries, conquered and superseded by them. This power and 
 wealth drew into their ranks unworthy persons, whose con- 
 duct increased the odium which their luxury had created. 
 The greatest efforts w^ere made to reform the convents, but 
 in vain. The highest church authorities attemj)ted in vain 
 to put an end to those abuses. The literature of Europe 
 was filled with denunciations of the vices of monks and 
 friars. The revenues of the monasteries w^ere continually 
 increasing. Dying men were taught that they could save 
 their souls by large legacies to these institutions. To give 
 to the church was made almost another sacrament. Monks 
 forged charters in their owm favor, at the time when none 
 but themselves could read or WTite. In short, they had 
 the w^orst vices of privileged orders, and show" how unablg 
 such communities are to resist the temptations of their 
 position. They had begun to be an injury rather than a 
 benefit to the church before the Eeformation came to take 
 away their remaining usefulness. Then the teaching and 
 working orders took their place; and these great institu- 
 tions are remembered only by such picturesque ruins as 
 those of Tintern and Melrose, such romances as Scott's 
 "Monastery" and "Abbot," such poems as Chaucer's "Can- 
 terbury Tales," and histories like Montalembert's " Monks 
 of the West." The system which, with all its merits, 
 inverted the special features of Christianity, and taught 
 that to retire from the world was better than to reform the 
 world, — was doomed by the divine law of progress to 
 sure extinction. When Jesus said that on the two com- 
 mandments, " Love to God and Love to Man," and not on 
 the first only, hang all the Law and the Prophets, he 
 pronounced the irrevocable doom of the hermit and the 
 cloister. 
 
THE CIIRISTLVN MOMKS AND MONASTIC LIFE. 123 
 
 V. 
 
 AUGUSTINE, ANSELM, AND BERNARD. 
 
 § 1. Introduction. — We will next consider the charac- 
 ters of three men, each of whom has made an epoch in 
 religious history, — Augustine, Anselm, and Bernard. The 
 first, Augustine, was an inspired soul, a prophet of truth, — 
 cue of those in whom certain religious ideas become in- 
 carnate, visible, tangible ; one through whom spiritual 
 things are made accessible to whole generations of human 
 beings. The second, Anselm, was a thinker, an intel- 
 lectual workman, living in the realm of abstract ideas 
 and compelling them to assume shape and form. As 
 spirit was made flesh in Augustine, so thought became 
 flesh in Anselm. The third, Bernard, was a reformer, — 
 one made up of moral convictions, possessed by the sense 
 of riglit and wrong ; bound to " cry aloud and spare not," to 
 show his generation its sins, to judge by a divine law all 
 mankind, whether peasants, princes, or popes. 
 
 In speaking of these three men I vvisli, at least, to indi- 
 cate the mighty influence each has exerted on human liis- 
 tory; and how the direction of thouglit and action may be 
 accelerated or retarded, modified or clianged, during long 
 centuries, by the ideas which take possession of a single 
 soul. 
 
 § 2. 77^c Life of AvfjKstine as described in his " Confes- 
 sionsy — Aurelius Augustine was born in Tagaste in Nu- 
 midia, in Africa, on Nov. 13, 354 A.D. His father wns a 
 
124 EVENTS AND EPOCHS IN EELIGIOUS HISTORY. 
 
 poor freedman of that place. His mother, Monica, was a 
 pious Christian, and the principles of Christianity were 
 impressed by her on his earliest childhood. No doubt, 
 also, the sight and knowledge of her virtues, and their 
 source, was a tie never quite broken, which in all his wan- 
 derings held him still to Christ ; for truths so impressed 
 on our childhood cannot be wholly effaced. We may for- 
 sake them, we may turn away from them, but they still 
 hold us. 
 
 In giving the story of his life I shall mostly follow that 
 strange and fascinating book, his " Confessions." It is an 
 autobiography, written in the presence of Gttd and ad- 
 dressed to God tliroughout. Full of a glowing piety, it 
 throws bright gleams upon life and character. It is a 
 lonsj act of devotion in which all the events of a life are 
 narrated, and discussed with God. It is an anomalous 
 book, wliich was destined, by its plan, either to fail utterly 
 and to be infinitely disagreeable ; or else to succeed, as it 
 has succeeded, in deeply interesting many feeling hearts 
 during long centuries. Many great works of this sort have 
 been written from different points of view. The ancient 
 Greeks and Eomans indeed did not have them ; they were 
 not introspective. Self-consciousness came into literature 
 with Christianity; and its first and best picture of the 
 inner life is perhaps given in these " Confessious " of Au- 
 gustine. Eousseau's " Confessions " are those of a passionate 
 egotist. The " Poetry and Truth " of Goetlie is the autobi- 
 ography of a literary man. Tlie "Memoirs of Cellini" are 
 those of an artist; those of Alfieri, of a poet. All these 
 are interesting and valuable. Of the religious kind of auto- 
 biography, we have "Fox's Journal," "Wesley's Journals," 
 " Luther's TaUe-Talk," and the like. But how far above 
 them all in fulness of life is the memoir of Augustine. 
 
 The "Confessions" of Augustine consist of thirteen 
 
AUGUSTINE, ANSKLM, AND BKKNARD. 125 
 
 chapters. The first opens witli a declaration of tlie great- 
 ness and unsearchablenoss of God, and with longing desires 
 for perfect union with Him. " Tlui liouse of my soul is 
 too strait for thee to come into; hut let it, O Lord, be 
 enlarged, that thou mayest enter in. It is ruinous; repair 
 thou it." He begins his biogra])hy witli his birth and 
 infancy. " What should I say but that I know not how 
 I came into this dying, life (shall I call it ?), or living 
 death?" Then he passes to speak of his boyhood, which 
 seems to have been remembered by him with not much 
 complacency. 
 
 " God, my Cod, what miseries and mockeries did I now 
 experience when obedience to my teachers was pn^posed to me 
 as proper for a hoy, in order that in this world I might pros- 
 per and excel in tongue-science, which should serve to the praise 
 of men and to deceitful riches. Next I was put to school to 
 get learning, in which I, poor wretch, knew not whnt use there 
 was ; and yet, if idle in learning, I was beaten, for this was 
 judged right by our forefathers ; and many, passing the same 
 course before us, framed for us weary paths, multiplying toil 
 and grief to the sons of Adam," 
 
 Upon these school-beatings Augustine dwells with much 
 pathos ; and remarks, with justice, tliat the pain was aggra- 
 vated by the child's parents and teachers making sj)ort of 
 ids torments, which were as great to him as tliose of tlie 
 martyrs were to them. He also suggests tliat those who 
 ])unish children for idleness would do well to reflect that 
 they are just as idle themselves, though their idleness is 
 called business ; and tliat the tutor who beats the boy for 
 quarrelling with his play-fullow, is more embittered him- 
 self, and angry, if worsted in a trifling discussion with his 
 fellow-tutor. 
 
 We learn from these "Confessions" that it was then 
 
126 EVENTS AND EPOCHS IN RELIGIOUS HISTORY. 
 
 the common practice to defer baptism till late in life ; for 
 Augustine says that being taken very sick, and fearing tliat 
 he was to die, he begged to be baptized ; and his mother, he 
 adds, would eagerly have had it done, had he not suddenly 
 recovered ; " And so," says he, — giving the universal view 
 of the age — " as if I must needs be again polluted should 
 I live, my cleansing was deferred, because the defilements 
 of sin would, after that washing, bring greater and more 
 perilous guilt." 
 
 It seems that Augustine disliked to study Greek, though 
 he relished Latin. He never, I believe, became a great 
 Greek scholar ; but he loved to read in Virgil about 
 ^neas, — " to lay up the follies of ^neas," says he, 
 " while I forgot my own, and to weep the death of 
 Dido, who killed herself for love, instead of weeping my 
 own death, for want of love to thee, my God." In his 
 sixteenth year his father, anxious for the education of his 
 son, sent him to Carthage to prosecute his studies. The 
 freedom he thus obtained by absence from home led him 
 astray. His passions were impetuous and unrestrained, 
 and his senses tumultuous. He tells a story of his going, 
 with some other young men, to rob an orchard of pears. 
 He says he did not need the pears, — he had enough, and 
 better than those, — he stole them for the sake of the theft. 
 *' Foul soul," adds he, " falling from thy firmament to utter 
 destruction, — not seekino- auL>ht throuoh the shame, but 
 the shame itself." He spends some time in investigating 
 his motives in this act, and concludes it was the sport of 
 deceiving others ; or, as we say now, " the love of mischief." 
 But this is not the love of evil as evil. It is not the evil 
 which is loved but the sport in it, — the unexpectedness 
 and surprise of it. Tliis theft of Augustine's shows, in- 
 deed, that he was at that time without principles, but it 
 does not quite prove him to have been totally depraved. 
 
AUGUSTINE, ANSELM, AND BEItNARD. 127 
 
 §3. His lowjing for Truth. Injlaeiice of Cicero. Mani- 
 cheism. — At Cartilage he remained IVoiii liis seventeenth 
 till his nineteenth year, spending his time partly in study 
 and partly in amusements. The first great impulse which 
 determined his soul upward came from reading a heathen 
 book, the " Hortensius," a work of Cicero's ; " whose 
 speech," says Augustine, " all admire, — not so his heart." 
 •This work, which is now lost, was an exhortation to the 
 study of philosophy, and Augustine speaks of it as awaken- 
 ing in his soul a longing for heavenly wisdom. 
 
 ** This book altered my affections" — such is his remarkable 
 language — " and turned my prayers to thyself, Lord, and 
 made me have other purposes and desires. Every vain hope at 
 once became worthless to me ; and I longed, with an incredibly 
 burning desire, for an immortality of wisdom ; and began now 
 to arise, that I might return to thee. For not to sharpen my 
 tongue did I employ that book ; nor did it infuse into me its 
 style, but its matter." 
 
 He adds that this book inspired him with the love of 
 true wisdom and pointed out the errors of a false philoso- 
 phy ; that it kindled his desires to embrace not this or 
 that sect but the truth wherever it might be ; and his only 
 drawback was that the name of Clirist was not in it, 
 since he had imbibed a reverence for that name from 
 his infancy. 
 
 "0 Truth, Truth, — how inwardly did then the marrow 
 of my soul pant after thee ! " exclaims he. But at this 
 time he fell into the hands of the jNIanicheans, and was 
 attracted by their mystical language, and the apparent 
 depth and sweep of their religious philosophy. The ^lani- 
 cheansi like the Gnostics, were speculative theosophers, 
 who sought to present the vast abstractions of Eastern 
 mysticism under the forms of Christianity. For nine 
 
128 EVENTS AND EPOCHS IN RELIGIOUS HISTORY. 
 
 years, from the age of nineteen to twenty-eight, the mind 
 of Augustine was under the control of this system. 
 
 It was a system of unconditioned dualism. Mani, its 
 author, seems to have been originally a magian, or priest 
 of the great Persian religion, whose liturgies are pre- 
 served in the Zend-Avesta. He sought to combine, into a 
 relisfion for the whole world, the ideas of Zoroaster, of Bud- 
 dhism, and the Gnostic sects of Cliristianity. He himself 
 suffered a cruel death under a King of Persia, somewhere 
 about A.D. 272, but his religion spread widely after his 
 death. In the fourth and fiftli centuries it had ramified 
 through the East, through Africa, Sicily, and Italy. A 
 system which could thus extend itself, and was able to 
 master the vigorous intellect of Augustine, must have sat- 
 isfied some w^ants both of the mind and heart. It explained 
 evil by making it a positive power, independent of God. 
 There are two worlds, of light and of darkness. In conflict 
 with each other the dark element has taken captive and 
 imprisoned some of the light. Out of this mixture was 
 this world made, and in man are both elements. Christ 
 came to redeem the light from its captivity, and Mani 
 completes the work. The community of Manicheans con- 
 sisted of two orders, — the Elect, or perfect, and the Cate- 
 chumens, or learners. The Elect were bound to rigorous 
 self-denial; renounced marriage, lived on olives, and owned 
 no property. The worship was simple, the festivals few. 
 
 To this sect Augustine attached himself, much to the sor- 
 row of his mother. He had read the Christian Scriptures, 
 but they were too simple, both in matter and in style, for 
 one who enjoyed the ideas of the Gnostics and the language 
 of Cicero. His mother, shocked at his new principles, began 
 to think that it might be her duty to drive from her house 
 her apostate son (the father was now dead), but she had a 
 dream which much consoled her. She imagined herself 
 
AUGUSTINE, ANSKLM, AND IJKKNARD. 129 
 
 to be stanfliiif,' on a wooden measuring-rule,^ and a shining 
 youth came to her and asked her why she wept. She answer- 
 ing that it was because of her son, he told her to look and 
 see that lier son was standing where she stood. So lifting 
 her eyes she saw him standing on the same Jtule. Augus- 
 tine told her that it meant that she must not despair of 
 becoming one day what he was ; but the good lady instantly 
 replied : " No ; it was not told me, where he, thou also, but 
 where thou, he also;'' wliich ready reply, he admits, some- 
 what impressed him. A priest also, whom she had begged 
 to argue with her son, wisely declined the task, saying: 
 " This would only strengthen him in his belief. Let him 
 alone, and he will come out of it himself." But she, weep- 
 ing, continued to urge him, whereat he said : " Go thy 
 way, and God bless thee, for it is not possible that the 
 child of these tears should perish ; " wliich answer slie 
 received as if it had sounded to her from Heaven. 
 
 For nine years, however, till he was twenty-eight, he 
 continued in this belief and in tlie prutice of many follies. 
 He taught rhetoric and supporteil himself by his fees as a 
 teacher. He describes, in patlietic terms, his grief for the 
 loss of a young friend, a fellow-student, whom he had 
 initiated into the Manichean doctrine. " He was nut my 
 friend as true friendship is ; for none is true but that 
 which Thou cementest together by the love which is shed 
 abroad in our hearts l)y the Holy Ghost ; yet was it but 
 too sweet, ripened by the warmth of kindred studies, . . . 
 sweet to me above all the sweetness of my life." As this 
 youth lay senseless in the fever, he was baptized ; to which 
 Augustine made no objection, " presuming his soul would 
 retain rather what it had received from me than wliat was 
 wrought upon his unconscious body." But when Augus- 
 tine, after his friend had become a little conscious, began 
 
 1 No doubt intending the " Rule of Faith." 
 9 
 
130 EVENTS AND EPOCHS IN RELIGIOUS HISTORY. 
 
 to jest at the baptism he had received, he shrank from 
 him as from an enemy, and, to Augustine's surprise, bade 
 him not to speak again in that way. In a few days a 
 relapse took him off, and then says Augustine, "at this 
 grief my heart was utterly darkened, and whatever I beheld 
 was death. ... I became a great riddle to myself, and 
 only tears were sweet to me. ... I bore about a shattered 
 and bleeding soul. . . . All things looked ghastly, even the 
 very light." But by degrees he wore away his anguish, 
 for " times lose no time," and little by little he returned to 
 his old amusements, and found the most consolation in the 
 society of other friends, which he describes thus : — 
 
 "To talk and jest together; to do kind offices by turns; to 
 read together honeyed books ; to play the fool or be earnest 
 together ; to dissent, at times, as a man might with his own 
 self, and so season our more frequent consentings ; sometimes 
 to teach and sometimes learn ; to long for the absent with 
 impatience, and welcome the coming with joy, — these things 
 were so much fuel to melt our souls together, and out of many 
 make but one." 
 
 In the twenty-ninth year of his age Augustine had 
 an interview with Faustus, a famous Manichean bishop, 
 who came to Carthage. Augustine eagerly sought him to 
 get an answer to certain objections to this system which 
 had long troubled him ; but he found that, though Faustus 
 had a winning eloquence, he could teach him nothing new 
 on those points. In fact, Faustus modestly declined the 
 discussion. Says Augustine : — 
 
 '' He knew that he knew not these things, and was not 
 ashamed to confess it, not being one of those talking persons, 
 many of whom I had endured, who undertook to tell me these 
 things, and said nothing. But this man had a heart, if not 
 right toward Thee, yet not altogether treacherous to himself. 
 
AUGUSTINE, ANSELM, AND BERNARD. l.'U 
 
 . . . For this I liked him better ; for fairer is tlie modesty of 
 a candid mind than the knowledge of those things that I 
 desired." 
 
 §4. His Conversion. Influence of Plato. — Dissatisfied 
 with the Mauicheans, yet knowing nothing better, Augus- 
 tine determined to go to Home. His mother, Monica, 
 dreaded this journey, and finding that she could not dis- 
 suade him, prayed to God to prevent him. " But Thou," 
 says Augustine, " in the depth of thy counsels, and hear- 
 ing the main point of her prayer, didst not regard what 
 she then asked, that Thou mightest make me what she 
 more deeply asked." Augustine first taught rhetoric at 
 liome and then went to Milan with the same object, and 
 tliere met with the great Ambrose, Bishop of Milan. 
 "Thou didst lead me unconsciously to him, that he might 
 lead me consciously to Thee," — is the remark of Augus- 
 tine here. Gradually he was led by his interest in the 
 eloquence of Ambrose to become interested also in his 
 doctrines. He renounced ]\Ianicheism, to the great joy of 
 his mother, who had followed him to Milan, and who 
 hung with delight on the teaching of Ambrose. Augustine 
 compares the joy of this widow at receiving her son again, 
 whom she had bewailed as one dead, to that of the widow 
 at the gate of Nain, whose dead son Christ delivered alive 
 again to his mother. But still Augustine was not wholly 
 a Christian. The time of Ambrose was so much occupied 
 that Augustine shunned to speak with him, and his own 
 days were filled nearly full with the cares of teaching and 
 his visits to his influential friends. Another step forward 
 he took by becoming interested in the Platonic philosophy 
 and in Xeo-Platonisra ; and it is remarkable that, as he 
 ascribed to Cicero his first impulse toward Truth, he now 
 ascribes to the Platonists his first real impulse toward 
 Christianity. He there read of the "Word of God wliich 
 
132 EVENTS AND EPOCHS IN RELIGIOUS HISTORY. 
 
 shines in the soul, though it is not the soul, — corresponding 
 to the Word of which St. John speaks. The effect upon his 
 mind is strikingly described in the following passage : — 
 
 "And being thence admonished to return to myself, I en- 
 tered even into my inward soul, Thou being my guide; and I 
 was able to do so because thou didst become my helper; and I 
 entered and beheld with the eye of my soul — even beyond my 
 soul, beyond my mind — the light unchangeable. Not the 
 common light, nor a greater of the same kiud, — not such was 
 this light, but far different ; nor was it above my soul as oil is 
 above water, . . . but above my soul because it made it. 
 Truth who art Eternity, Love who art Truth, and Eternity 
 w^ho art Love, — thou art my God ! When I first knew Thee 
 Thou didst lift me up that I might see there was something 
 for me to see, and I trembled with love and awe, and perceived 
 I was far off from Thee, in the region of uulikeness." 
 
 The difficulty now with Augustine had ceased to be 
 intellectual and was merely moral. He had no more 
 objections to the doctrines of Christianity, but he could 
 not bear to leave his worldly pleasures and begin a life of 
 self-denial. In his views of Christianity, however, he was 
 what we now call a Nationalist. He believed Christ to 
 have been a very wise and good man, and to have become, 
 by the help of God, an example to us of a perfect life. 
 
 The next means of his further progress was his acquaint- 
 ance with Simplicianus, an excellent Christian teacher, 
 who had converted Ambrose. When Augustine told him 
 of his studies among the Platonists he was much pleased, 
 and glad that he had not fallen upon the writings of 
 other schools of philosophy. His exhortations produced 
 nmch effect on the mind of Augustine ; and all, as he says, 
 that now detained him from Christianity was reluctance to 
 leave his sins. His prayer to God was : " Give me chastity 
 and temperance, — only not yet!' " A little more sleep, and 
 
AUGUSTINE, ANSKLM, AM) m:i:XAUD. 133 
 
 a little more slumber." 11(3 became irresolute and unliappy, 
 longiuj^ to be a Christian yet unable to resolve upon it. 
 One day, in this anxiety, he went with Iiis friend Alypius 
 iVom the house into the «,'arden, nnd thought tliat to enter 
 lieaven he did not need to g(j as far as he had gone from 
 the house: — 
 
 "For to go and to arrive was only to will to go, resolutely 
 and thoroughl}', and not to turn and toss, this way and that, 
 with maimed and half-divided will, onC part sinking as another 
 rose." 
 
 Distracted and miserable, he walked to and fro, and said 
 to himself, " Be it done now, — twiu I " And as he spake, he 
 almost determined. He all but did it, yet did it not. His 
 old pleasures seemed to say to him, " Dost thou cast us off 
 forever ? " lint before him then ap})eared the chaste beauty 
 of self-control, calling him iorward ; and, in the agony of his 
 irresolution, he cast himself on the ground, bathed in tears. 
 Finally he said to himself, " Why not this hour make an 
 end of my uncleanness ? " and he then heard a voice as of 
 cliildren playing, which cried out, " Take up and read — 
 take up and read." He arose and went to where the 
 manuscript of an Epistle of Paul was lying, — oi)ened, and 
 read these words : " Not in rioting and drunkenness, not in 
 chambering and wantonness, not in strife and envying; 
 but put ye on the Lord Jesus Christ, and make not pro- 
 vision for the flesh, to fullil the lusts thereof." .Vt the end 
 of this sentence a serene light difl'used itself through his 
 heart, and all the darkness of doubt vanished away. 
 
 This was the conversion of Augustine. It happened on 
 tlie third of ^lay, in his thirty-second year; and the Catholic 
 Church has a festival to commemorate this event. Well 
 may it be remendjered ! Many great events occurred dur- 
 ing tliat century. It saw, at its commencement, the last 
 
134 EVENTS AND EPOCHS IN RELIGIOUS HISTORY. 
 
 great persecution of the Christians, under the Emperor 
 Diocletian; it saw this persecuted religion ascend the 
 throne of the Cciesars with Constantine ; it saw the new 
 capital of the Eastern empire founded at Constantinople ; 
 it witnessed the violent conflicts concerning the Trinity, 
 and the alternate triumph and defeat of the Arians and 
 their opponents. The Eastern and Western Empires were 
 divided in this period ; the Apostate Julian rose and 
 reigned, and exerted in vain all the resources of his genius 
 and power to check the progress of Christianity. In this 
 century there collected along the northern borders of the 
 empire those clouds of barbarous nations, the Goths and 
 Yandals, destined to sweep over the ancient lloman Empire 
 in a storm of conquest; and then arrived on tlie eastern 
 frontiers that mysterious and infinite multitude of Huns, 
 who had journeyed from the extreme eastern shore of Asia 
 to share in the ruin of this doomed empire. Two hundred 
 years before Christ they had invaded China, and nearly 
 destroyed the Chinese nation ; and four hundred and fifty 
 years after Christ tliey poured their irresistible squadrons 
 over the fields of Italy. This century, which had com- 
 menced with a persecution of the Christians, saw, at its 
 close, the Pagan religion entirely overthrown throughout 
 the empire, — its temples demolished, its worship prohib- 
 ited, and its last remains forever extinguished. And yet, 
 witnessing these great events, it saw nothing greater, in 
 its influence on the world, than the mysterious change 
 which took place in the direction of a single soul in that 
 small garden in Milan. At tliat very hour Ambrose was 
 humbling the pride of the Eoman emperor, and compelling 
 him to submit to the power of a Christian bishop; but 
 this was a triumph far inferior to the conquest of a soul 
 like tliat of Augustine. This conversion gave a teacher 
 to the Christian church who has directed its thoughts 
 
AUGUSTINE, ANSELM, AND BERNARD. 135 
 
 for fifteen hundred years, and wliose ideas still rule our 
 theology with an ahnost despotic sway. The greatest 
 lights of the church, Catholic aud Protestant, have gone 
 to him for instruction. 
 
 " Hither, as to tlioir fountain, other stars 
 Repairing, in their golden urns draw hght." 
 
 Peter Lombard, Thomas Aquinas, and other great Cath- 
 olic doctors quote Augustine as authority for their views, 
 exactly as they quote the Bible. Luther and Calvin, 
 rejecting all other authority in the Poman Church, con- 
 tinued to follow Augustine as their guide in theology ; 
 and their leading doctrines are identical with his. His 
 soul of llame, and keen intellect, have ruled the minds 
 of men with an intellectual despotism never equalled 
 in this world. We ask whetlier the sons of Africa 
 can ever l)e elevated to our level ; and behold ! an 
 African intellect is the ruler, almost to our own time, 
 of Christendom ! 
 
 We here leave the " Confessions," of which there are 
 five more books; which, however, do not refer to tlie 
 events of his life. He returned to Africa after havini^ 
 been baptized by Ambrose, A.D. 387. He renounced his 
 occupation as a teacher of rhetoric, and devoted himself to 
 Christianity. From this time he broke away from his evil 
 liabits and lived a life of purity and self-denial. Ordained 
 ]»rie.st in 389, he was chosen coadjutor to the Bishop of 
 Hippo in 395. The rest of his life was occupied in tlie 
 (hities of his office ; in study ; in writing the works which 
 liave had such influence; in controversies with the Mani- 
 clieans, the Donatists, and Pelagians ; and in founding 
 monastic institutions. In the year of Christ 430 the city 
 of Hippo was besieged by the Vandals, who overran Africa 
 i'kc a plague of locusts. Augustine remained among his 
 
136 EVENTS AND EPOCHS IN RELIGIOUS HISTORY. 
 
 people, refusing to abandon his post, and died in the third 
 month of the siege, seventy-six years old. 
 
 § 5. The Doctrine of Augustine. — The influence which 
 Augustine has exercised comes from the fact that he gave 
 the religious life of his time a new direction, which it has 
 retained to our own day. Theology had been occupied till 
 his era with speculations concerning the nature of God, 
 and the person of Christ, — speculative and transcendental 
 questions outside of personal experience. Augustine led 
 the way in making Christianity a matter of individual sal- 
 vation, of each man's private relation to God. His leading 
 doctrine was the Sovereignty of God ; and with that, the 
 utter Inability of Man. God is everything, man is noth- 
 ing ; but man, when he submits to God, becomes himself 
 everything. The doctrine of the sovereignty of God created 
 the sense of dependence in man. This gave a direction to 
 Christian belief and experience which has not since been 
 lost. It was repeated, in still stronger forms, by Luther 
 and Calvin. It was emphasized by Puritanism in England 
 and America. It involved the doctrine of absolute Pre- 
 destination and Election. It left man helpless and hope- 
 less without God and God's grace. It has had great results 
 for good and evil, producing a very strong religion, though 
 a hard one. Now that this long reign of Augustine is 
 passing away we may recognize its merits, while we are 
 not unwilling to have it gone ; for we may believe that all 
 that is good and true in it will be kept, and fulfilled in 
 somethimj hi2:her and better. 
 
 This doctrine of Augustine was developed during his 
 controversy with Pelagius, but it came from the depths of 
 his own experience. He had been led by his own sense 
 of sin to cling to God for pardon and rescue. His power- 
 ful soul, uniting the fire of Africa with the deeper thought 
 of Europe, knew no rest till it had brought into clear con- 
 
AUGUSTINE, ANSELM, AND BERNARD. 137 
 
 sciousness its own most profuuiid experience. Hence the 
 power of his teaching on all these centuries. 
 
 The world in the time of Angustine was tired of abstract 
 speculation. In the controversies of tlie East over the 
 nature and person of Christ, thought had gone extraordi- 
 nary lengths in defining the nature of the Deity. At last, 
 after many oscillations from the Atlianasian to the Arian 
 creed, and from Tritheism to Sabellianism, it had settled 
 into the .view which has remained orthodox to this day, 
 namely : that the true Trinity is a mystery somewhere 
 between these o])posite extremes. We must say there is 
 One God; we must say he is in Three Persons; but we 
 nuist say it so as not to divide the substance, and not to 
 confound the distinctions. We must not be Arians ; we 
 must not be Tritheists ; we must not be Sabellians, nor 
 Nestorians, nor Eutychians, nor Monophysitej, nor Mono- 
 thelites. Home-bound thought, tired of wandering around 
 the world, ran its bark ashore, and said : " I will reason 
 no more about it ; let tliis stand hereafter as the orthodox 
 doctrine of the Trinity." 
 
 Speculative theology in regard to the Deity being thus 
 settled, it remained to determine what man was to do and be 
 in order to become a Christian. And here lay two rocks, 
 one on either shore, each dangerous to the navigator. What 
 was needed that men might become Christians was seen to 
 be this, — to have aroused within them the two antagonist 
 principles of accountability and dependence. Conscience 
 must be awakened on the one side, faith on the other. lUit 
 if you lay too much stress on accountability, and tell men 
 it is their duty to go to work, you are in danger of weaken- 
 ing their sense of dependence. They may feel that they 
 are to work in their own strength, as free agents, alone. 
 On the other hand, if you tell them to trust entirely in 
 God and lean on him, they are in danger of ceasing from 
 
138 EVENTS AND EPOCHS IN RELIGIOUS HISTORY. 
 
 all effort, and waiting till God shall make them what they 
 ought to be. 
 
 Augustine met this difficulty by his doctrine of Original 
 Sin. " You are responsible by being guilty," he says. 
 "You are born guilty of the sin of Adam, your federal 
 head. . . . You have no power to do anything good or right 
 or pleasing to God, so you must cast yourselves wholly 
 on him for pardon and salvation." Sin, thus conceived of, 
 is something not proceeding from the will at all. It is a 
 corruption of the nature. It is not so much guilt as dis- 
 ease. As the sick man puts himself wholly into the hands 
 of his physician, so the sinner, to be cured of his deadly 
 sickness, must put himself absolutely into the hands of 
 Christ, and of the Church, the servant and agent of Christ. 
 Eeligion thus becomes submission, reliance, faith, self-sur- 
 render, humility, abnegation, self-mortification. It hum- 
 bles the pride of man ; it casts down his vanity and 
 self-conceit, and makes him lowly and meek. It promotes 
 the habit of prayer. It associates itself easily with a high 
 view of the authority of the Church and reverence for the 
 priesthood; of the duty of- believing what we are told con- 
 cerning the sin of heresy and the danger of free thought. 
 It makes of Christianity a medicine to heal a sick man 
 rather than food by which the well man is to be kept in 
 health. Eeligion, according to this system, is not growth 
 but recovery. 
 
 Is it not evident, from this statement, that this Augus- 
 tinian theology has given the tone to the Christianity 
 of both Catholic and Protestant churches, down to this 
 hour ? It has caused us to regard God as an absolute 
 King to whom we must submit without question, even if 
 we deny every instinct of mind and heart, — not because 
 his commands are "holy, just, and good," but because he is 
 Almighty and because we are wholly sinful. 
 
AUGUSTINE, AXSELM, AND BERNARD. 139 
 
 Luther and Calvin both accepted llie theology of Augus- 
 tine in all its rigor, and in fact used it as an argument 
 against the Church of Konie. As an army in storming a 
 city gets possession of a bastion, and then turns its guns 
 inward against the place itself, — so Luther and Calvin 
 turned the artillery of this great Roman Doctor and Saint 
 against Home. While tliey dropped his sacramental views, 
 they strengthened and sharpened his opinions concerning 
 sin and redemption. 
 
 It is good to be humble and modest ; it is good to be 
 aware of our own sinfulness. It is no doubt true that sin 
 is not only guilt but also inherited disease. So far the 
 influence of this theology has been good. lUit it has also 
 Ijecn bad, — in discouraging human effort, in teaching men 
 to regard God as an arbitrary Deing, in causing religion 
 to assume a sad and gloomy tone, and disparaging human 
 nature in the suj^posed interests of piety. 
 
 § 6. A(/e of Augustine. Character and Permanence of 
 his Influence. — The age of Augustine was one of extremes. 
 While some Christians were tormenting and denying them- 
 selves, others were giving themselves up to self-indulgence. 
 Damasus (A.I). 366) obtained the bishoj)ric of Home by a 
 battle in which, according even to Jerome his friend, the 
 most cruel nnuders were inflicted on men and women. 
 Damasus marched at the head of a body of clergy, grave- 
 diggers, charioteers, and hired gladiators, to the Church of 
 Santa ^laria Maggiore, where the election was held, — 
 burst the doors of the basilica, and took the tiles from the 
 roof. Having thus l)roken in, he attacked his opponents, 
 of whom the dead bodies of one hundred and sixty were 
 afterward found on tlie pavement. Having thus obtained 
 the post of liishop of Rome, his sumptuous entertain- 
 ments, splendid chariots, and rich robes outshone those of 
 the Emperor himself. 
 
140 EVENTS AND EPOCHS IN RELIGIOUS HISTORY. 
 
 To heighten these contrasts, there were here and there seen 
 extraordinary examples of genuine Christian heroism, an(i 
 fidelity to Christian duty. Ambrose, Archbisliop of Milan, 
 of a noble Eoman family, was a civil officer, and had not 
 even been baptized when he was chosen arclibishop by accla- 
 mation, the whole community demanding his election with 
 such unanimity that the reluctant magistrate (says Gibbon) 
 was compelled to accept a situation for which he was wholly 
 unprepared by any previous experience. He devoted him- 
 self to his duties, gave away his private fortune, lived 
 modestly, and sold the consecrated plate of the church to 
 redeem captives from slavery. He resisted the orders of 
 the Empress when asked to violate liis convictions ; lie 
 met the invading Goths at the door of his church, and by 
 his imposing presence restrained tlieir fury ; but his bravest 
 act was his conduct toward the orthodox Emperor Tlieo- 
 dosius, who, in liis indignation at a brutal murder of one of 
 his generals by some citizens of Tliessalonica, ordered an 
 indiscriminate massacre of tlie people in the city. When 
 Ambrose heard of it he refused to allow the Emperor to 
 enter the church or to partake of the sacrament until he 
 had done penance during eight months; for with him there 
 was but one Christian law, for the king and the slave. 
 
 During the life of Augustine occurred the destruction 
 and final extinction of Paganism ; the entrance of the 
 Goths into the empire, and their destructive ravages; the 
 downfall of Arianism ; tlie division of the Empire between 
 Arcadius and Honorius ; the invasion of Hungary by the 
 Huns, of Gaul by the Visigoths, of Cpain and Africa by 
 the Vandals ; and the siei]^e and sack of Eome by Alaric. 
 This last event gave a shock to the civilized world. It 
 seemed as if chaos were returning again, when the stately 
 city which had subdued and civilized half the earth and 
 had never been entered by an enemy since its foundation, 
 
AUGUSTINE, ANSELM, AND BHIiNAlM). 141 
 
 eleven hundred and sixty-three years earlier, fell before 
 the fury of the jjarharians who were sweepiiii; all culture 
 and religion from the face of the earth. lUit evun in lliat 
 hour of terror, when at midnight the awful Gotliic trumpet 
 sounded in the streets of lionie, the Arian (Joths showed 
 more compassion and more sense of religion than the 
 Koman Catholic soldiers of Charles the Fifth, when they 
 sacked the city of their own Tope eleven hundred years 
 afterward. 
 
 The power of Aiigusiiiu! was in his theology. He estab- 
 lished a system of theology which has ruled the Christian 
 Church from his time to the present. He laid the founda- 
 tion and erected the temple of Western, or Latin orthodoxy, 
 which has remained the orthodoxy of the Catholic and 
 Trotestant churches and creeds till now. Of his three 
 great contemporaries — Chrysostom, the "golden-mouthed 
 orator," ruled b}' his eloquence, Ambrose by his character, 
 and Jerome by his learning. Ihit the power of eloquence, 
 though it may astonish the world for a day, is fugitive. 
 It is like the lightning, whose blaze makes the sunlight 
 dim for a single moment, and then disappears. Knowledge 
 has a more permanent influence, but it is limited in its 
 range. It is like the fire of Prometheus, stolen at first 
 from Heaven, and then treasured in a multitude of homes 
 and warming y)rivate hearths with its kindly heat. But 
 we may comj)are the influence of a great Ins])iration like 
 that of Augustine, which gives new life to men, to that of 
 the solar heat, which is everywhere diffused and enters 
 into all growth. There is not a little Baptist or Methodist 
 church to-day in Kansas or Montana, not a Catholic priest 
 in Japan or Brazil, not a Scotch farmer or English con- 
 servative statesman, but is more or less influenced by this 
 African bishop. He has held the reins and guided the 
 progress of the Christian Church during fifteen hundred 
 
142 EVENTS AND EPOCHS IN RELIGIOUS HISTORY. 
 
 years. Carthage, conquered and destroyed by Rome, recon- 
 quered and governed it by the ardent mind of this Christ- 
 ian thinker. To those who think that theology is empty 
 speculation, no longer inliuencing men, a study of the 
 life and work of Augustine may teach a dif["erent lesson. 
 Immense good or evil comes from the view of God, ot 
 Christ, of man, whicli is taken by Christian teachers and 
 Christian communities. Tlieology is the body of which 
 faitli is the soul. We may say of theology what Paul 
 says of the earthly body : " We would not be unclothed 
 but clothed upon, that mortality may be swallowed up of 
 life." We must have some theolog}^ ; let us have a true, 
 large, generous, manly, liberal theology. The great and 
 deep-rooted system of Augustine will be fultilled in some- 
 thing still deeper, higher, nobler, and purer ; and the Saint 
 of Africa, from his seat in Heaven, will no doubt joyfully 
 welcome that better theology which shall forever replace 
 his own. 
 
 § 7. Ansdm. Character of tJie Eleventh Century. — We 
 will now speak of Anselni. His life, like that of Augustine, 
 was one of those which make epochs. It belonged mostly 
 to the eleventh century. Born 1033, in Piedmont, he died 
 1109, in England. His century saw the Pope become 
 master of Europe in the person of Hildebrand, to which 
 event Anselm contributed his full part. It saw the Greek 
 Church sexmrated from the Western. With Anselm com- 
 menced the Scholastic Period. During his life William 
 the Conqueror, made England a province of Normandy ; 
 the Crusades began; Gothic architecture had its origin ; the 
 Northmen founded republics in Italy ; and the Cid began 
 to drive the Moors from Spain. The eleventh century 
 was a period of beginnings. Then began scholasticism, the 
 Papal supremacy, the Mediaeval architecture, the Engl is' 
 
AUGUSTINE, ANSELM, AND nERNAnP. 143 
 
 ami Spanish nations ; and the unity uf Modern Europe 
 by means of the Crusades. It was a time for sowing 
 seeds, — the seeds of modern liistory. It was a dark age, 
 tlie gloomiest of all the Dark Ages perliajis ; hut seeds 
 grow best in darkness. Anselm, one of the most promi- 
 nent men of his period, was connected with most of tliese 
 great events, and himself a sower of seeds which have 
 borne fruit, good and evil, during long centuries. He 
 was an lUilian, but an Englishman too ; a monk and a 
 politician; a metaphysical thinker of the first order; and 
 a sagacious leader in the war between tlie Komish Churcli 
 and the tyrannical feudal lords of Europe. 
 
 Anselm was born about A.D. 1033, in the valley of 
 Aosta, on the head waters of the Po, in the extreme north- 
 west of Italy, just south of the great range of Mt. Blanc. 
 He was of a noble family, and a house still stands in 
 Aosta, rebuilt in 1515, wliich, according to an ancient 
 inscription, was that in which lie was born. Brought uj) 
 by a pious mother, Ermenberge, he at the age of lifleen 
 wished to become a monk, which was then considered to 
 be the only sure way of saving one's soul. Being resisted 
 in this wish he fell away for a while into a course of pleas- 
 ure and idleness, which brought on him the anger of Iiis 
 father ; so that, at last, leaving his home, he crossed Mt. 
 Cenis on loot, with a single companion, and, passing 
 through Burgundy, arrived in Normandy, and soon en- 
 tered the monastery of Bee, south of Rouen. Tliis monas- 
 tery liad recently been founded by Herluin, a Norman 
 nobleman, who, after liaving been a distinguished ca])tain, 
 renounced the world and wished to enter a convent. Erom 
 the door of one he was driven as a tliief; at another he 
 saw a procession of monks in rich dresses noisily laugliing 
 and talking in a way that disturbed his simple faitli in 
 their holiness, lleassured by a dream, he built a church 
 
144 EVENTS AND EPOCHS IN RELIGIOUS HISTORY. 
 
 and founded a convent at Bee, of which he was made 
 abbot. Sensible of his defects as a scholar, he happily 
 obtained for liis prior Lanfranc, who had been distin- 
 guished as a scholar and lawyer in Italy, and who came 
 into France to seek his fortune. France in the eleventh 
 century was pretty equally divided between the feudal 
 nobles, who were engaged in perpetual wars ; the peasants, 
 or serfs, little better than slaves ; the wild beasts, who 
 had immense tracts of forest to themselves, the possession 
 of which was only disputed by bands of soldiers turned 
 robbers ; and the monasteries, scattered here and there, as 
 " cities of refuge " for those who had grown tired of the 
 brutal pleasures and savage cruelties of the world. Lan- 
 franc, in his search for a position, fell into the hands of 
 robbers, escaping from whom he somehow found his way 
 to the convent of Bee, which Herluin was trying to estab- 
 lish. He quickly decided to become a monk, and was 
 accepted after a severe novitiate, which he bore humbly 
 and patiently. He even consented to mispronounce his 
 Latin, by direction of his German superiors, whose ears 
 were unused to the Italian methods. Being reproved for 
 saying do-ce-re he pronounced it doc-e-re, esteeming diso- 
 bedience worse than a false quantity. 
 
 The way in which Lanfranc came to be Archbishop of 
 Canterbury was peculiar. It was by quarrelling with 
 William, Duke of Normandy, the very man who ai'terward 
 appointed him to that office. Called to give his opinion 
 on the legality of the marriage of William with his cousin 
 Matilda, he was obliged by the canon law to condemn 
 it, and the angry Duke banished him from his estates. 
 Lanfranc obeyed, taking the only liorse in the convent 
 stables, which was lame, and contrived to travel on a road 
 wherein he met the terrible Duke, and stopped before him. 
 " What do you want ? " said the Duke angrily. "I want 
 
AUGUSTINE, ANSELM, AND BERNARD. 145 
 
 you to give me a better liorso, so that I can obey your 
 orders more promptly." The Duke hiughed, and sent liini 
 back to liis convent, where tliey ehanted Te Bcuui. The 
 Pope having ])laced the dukedom under an interdict on 
 account of this marriaij;e, LaniVanc went to liunie, at th(; 
 Duke's request, to plead his cause, and succeeded in get- 
 tinjj- the marriai^e le<^alized on condition that the Duke 
 and Duchess should each found a convent, — one of monks, 
 and the other of nuns, — which was done. 
 
 When William of Normandy conquered England, he 
 displaced the JSaxon patriot Stigand, then Archbi.shop 
 of Canterbury, and brought over the Norman prior Lan- 
 franc to take his ]>lai'e. Lanfranc was famous as a teacher, 
 having opened a school in the convent, which attracted 
 scholars from all quarters. Among tlie rest our Anselm, 
 who became a monk in lOGO, at the age of twenty- 
 seven. 
 
 Lanfranc was the chief opponent of Berengarius, or 
 Berenger, who was accused of heresy for denying that the 
 bread and wine became in the eucharist the real body and 
 blood of Christ, l^erenger admitted tliat Christ was pres- 
 ent in the eucharist, but maintained that the bread and 
 wine were only symbols and figures of his body and blood. 
 Berenger, Lanfranc, and Anselm were the three great schol- 
 ars of their day, and tlie restorers of logical and metaphysi- 
 cal studies in Europe. The doctrine of Berenger was 
 condemned by six different councils. He retracted his 
 opinion five times, and five times reasserted it as soon as 
 he got out of reach of his enemies. He fortunately had a 
 friend in the great Hildel)rand, who protected him as far 
 as he was able, and finally forbade any one from troubling 
 I'erenger further about his oi»inions. Ilildebrand declared 
 that he had consulted the Virgin IMary, who had told him 
 to be satisfied with the simple words of Scripture which 
 
 10 
 
146 EVENTS AND EPOCHS IN RELIGIOUS HISTORY. 
 
 Berenger willingly accepted ; so that Hildebrand dismissed 
 him with this letter : — 
 
 ''To all the Faithful in St. Peter. 
 
 " Be it known to you all that we pronounce our anathema on 
 all who shall presume to do any harm to Berenger, a son of 
 the Church of Rome, or who shall call him a heretic. Him we 
 now send home, he having passed many days with us at our 
 request," 
 
 So Berenger w^ent back to his home in Tours, where he 
 died, — having had the last word, and the pleasure of still 
 maintaining his opinion that the bread and wine were not 
 the body and blood of Christ ; a solitary example, in those 
 days, of a heretic dying in the odor of sanctity, and so much 
 beloved that a yearly festival was held over his grave. 
 But Dominic and the Inquisition had not yet come. 
 
 § 8. Anselm's Religious Meditations and Prayers. His 
 Work and Study in the convent. — While at Bee, Anselm 
 devoted himself to study, and to the practices of piety. 
 He had frequent visions and supernatural experiences ; 
 which were so common in those days as to almost cease to 
 be supernatural, and to become natural. One night he lay 
 awake trying to understand how tlie prophets could fore- 
 see the future ; when, through the walls of his cell, which 
 suddenly became transparent, he beheld the monks in the 
 church arranging the altar, lighting the candles, and doing 
 their other work. Then he reflected that God might make 
 the prophets able to look into the future and see what was 
 happening there, just as he had been able to look into 
 the chapel ; " concluding from a vision through space to a 
 vision through time." 
 
 Anselm has left meditations and prayers, which are full 
 of a warm piety. I have a little book, printed in 1607, 
 containing the Latin prayers and meditations of these 
 
AUGUSTINE, ANSELM, AND BEimARD. 147 
 
 three Eoman saints, — Augustine, Anselni, and Bernard. 
 I find them full of solid and sweet i)iety ; and 1 often 
 take this little volume in ni\ pocket, and l<H)k into it as I 
 ride or walk. Here is a part of the iirst meditation of 
 Auselm : — 
 
 "0 Lord my God, grant to my lieart to desire thee ; by de- 
 siring, to seek thee ; by seeking, to hud thee ; by finding, to 
 love thee ; by loving thee, to be redeemed from my sins ; and 
 by being redeemed from my sins, not to repeat them again. 
 Give, O Lord my God, penitence to my heart, contrition to my 
 spirit, a foimtuin of tears to my eyes, bounty to my liands. O 
 my King, drown in me the desires of the flesh, and inflame the 
 fervor of thy love. O my Ilcdcemer, drive from me the spirit 
 of j)ride, and propitiously bestow the treasure of divine hu- 
 mility. Savior ! Remove the rage of anger and instil the sense 
 of patience. O my Creator, take away my rancor of soul, and 
 largely bestow serenity of mind. Father of all mercy, grant to 
 me a solid faith, an eifective hope, and a perfect charity." 
 
 One young monk named Osborne was jealous of the 
 rapid promotion of Anselm, and showed to him an evil 
 and unkind humor; but Anselni seemed not to notice it, 
 bore with his bad temper, ])raised him for his gocjd actions, 
 granted him many favors, and so gradually won his heart. 
 Then Anselni grew more stern, and with austere love 
 taught him to endure hardships, and even inflicted chas- 
 tisement upon him with rods, — so severe was conventual 
 discipline. The disciple bore it all patiently, and became 
 as docile as he had before been otherwise ; but before loner 
 be was attacked with a fatal disease, and died in the arms 
 oi" Anselm. Tie ])romised to return after death, if ]»er- 
 mitti'd, to reveal to Anselm his destiny. This promise 
 was fullilled in a dream, in which Anselm saw three 
 majestic figures approach and sit around the body of 
 Osborne as if to judge him. The judgment being pro- 
 
148 EVENTS AND EPOCHS IN RELIGIOUS HISTORY. 
 
 nounced, Osborne himself seemed to rise, and coming to 
 Anselm said : " Tliree times the old serpent attacked me, 
 but three times the angels delivered me." Anselm awoke, 
 and concluded from this dream that his friend was safe, yet 
 thought it best to perform a daily mass for the repose of 
 his soul ; which was done as long as Anselm lived, either 
 by himself or another. 
 
 The devils, it is reported, hated Anselm much, which was 
 greatly to his honor ; for, next to the love of the generous 
 and good, a man is honored by the dislike of the narrow- 
 minded and hard-hearted. A Norman soldier named 
 Cadul had been converted by Anselm, and was saying his 
 prayers in the church. A devil came, disguised as his 
 squire, to tell him that thieves were stealing his horses ; 
 but the good soldier went on with his prayer. Then an- 
 other devil, in the form of a bear, fell on the pavement at 
 his side ; but the soldier prayed on as before. After he 
 left the church, on his way to see Anselm, the devil came 
 in the form of a friend and said : " Cadul ! do not go near 
 that man ; he is no saint, but a hypocrite." But the sol- 
 dier made the sign of the cross, and tlie devil flew away ; 
 and Cadul became a monk. 
 
 Anselm spent some of his leisure in copying manu- 
 scripts. They were rare enough then among the Gauls. 
 Two convents exchanged some books as a sign of friend- 
 ship. " Take," said one of the abbots, " any book you 
 please from our library ; but give us, if you have them, tlie 
 Epistles of Saint Paul." 
 
 One day an abbot talked with Anselm of the obstinacy 
 of the children at his convent-school, wdiom he could not 
 control even by the severest punishments. ''We beat 
 them night and day," said lie ; " but they grow worse con- 
 tinually." " You beat them," said Anselm ; " and what do 
 they become when they grow up ? " " Stupid and brutal," 
 
AUGUSTINK, ANSELM, AND BERNARD. 149 
 
 replied the iibhot. " Wluit sliouM you think," said Au- 
 selin, "if a man planteil a tree and then tied its branches 
 togethi!!' so that they coidd not expand, and ])ut its roots 
 lietvveen roL'ks so that they coidd not rainily? Children's 
 minds need to expand, and ynii subject them to such rude 
 constraint that their thoughts accumulate in their bosoms 
 and turn bitter. You beat them, and ho})e to help them 
 so ; but an artist cannot make a golilen statue merely by 
 l)eating it: he must form it by careful touches." So, at 
 last, the abbot promised to abandon the rod and try milder 
 measures. Anselm has lain in his grave more than seven 
 centuries ; but we have n(jt wholly learned that education 
 does not mean to consti-ain and re])ress by fear, but rather 
 to incite and develop by hope and affection. 
 
 § 9. Ansdm as Ajxhbishop of Canterhury. His Conflict 
 with the Ki)hf), his Exile, and Return. — After Lanfranc's 
 ])roraotion Anselm became Prior of Bee, and devoted his 
 time to study, meditation, and prayer. He also copied 
 b(^(jks for his library. He was fond of mystical theology 
 and metaphysics. When Lanfranc died he was summoned 
 to England to take his place as Archbishop of Canterbury. 
 IL-re he was brought into conflict with the \d\vj^, William 
 llufus, who plundered Church and State with great impar- 
 tiality. The King insisted on his right to appoint the 
 bishops. Hildel)rand declared that no bishop so appointed 
 could exercise his office till he had been to Rome to receive 
 the i)allium, or bisliop's cloak. In other words, the Pope 
 claimed the right of a veto on all appointments. Pietween 
 the King and the Pope, Anselm was like the iron between 
 the hammer and the anvil. He was banished twice, and 
 twice returned. 
 
 Anselm had obstinately refused to accept the office of 
 Archbishop of Canterbury as long as possible, foreseeing 
 the war which would ensue between himself and the King. 
 
150 EVENTS AND EPOCHS IN RELIGIOUS HISTOKY. 
 
 William Eufus was a true tyrant. He had spoiled the 
 Church and State by systematic robbery, and repented and 
 made restitution when thinking himself about to die ; but 
 repented of his repentance and took back his plunder as 
 soon as he was well again. 
 
 The fears of Anselm were well founded, and his reluc- 
 tance to accept the bishopric was a proof of his sagacity 
 and good sense. His life from that time forward was a 
 constant scene of warfare. " Fighting with wild beasts at 
 Ephesus " was nothing to his struggle with these fierce 
 Norman soldiers, — greedy for plunder, neither fearing God 
 nor man, cunning as foxes, cruel as serpents. It was a 
 battle between Feudalism and the Church. 
 
 According to Feudalism, the bishop must receive his 
 authority from his duke, and must do homage for it in the 
 usual way ; but this became, in time, equivalent to the 
 bishop being appointed by the king or duke, as is now 
 done in England, and as we have seen in the case of 
 Anselm himself, who was appointed by William Rufus to 
 the see of Canterbury. Sooner or later this would dissolve 
 the Church into national churches, wholly the tools of the 
 feudal barons and monarchs, and the unity of Christendom 
 would disappear. Before long, however, there would natu- 
 rally come a sagacious, far-seeing pope, who would put forth 
 the whole power of the Church to resist this great danger. 
 This pope came in the person of Hildebrand, Gregoty VII. 
 The conflict concerning investitures was the field of battle 
 between the principles of papacy and those of feudalism. 
 Hildebrand first united the Church by forcing the priest- 
 hood to accept the principle of celibacy, making them inde- 
 pendent of all domestic and social ties, so as to convert 
 them into a compact army. Then came the battle with 
 the secular authority, in which Anselm was the chief agent 
 of the papal power in England. Long was the struggle. 
 
AUGUSTINE, ANSELM, AND BERNARD. 151 
 
 Anselm asked to be permitted to go to Rome to receive 
 the pall, or Ijishop's cloak, from the Poi)e. His request 
 was refused. He then embarked without leave, and in 
 return the King deposed him, and seized all the i)roperty 
 of his see. At Rome, Anselm was received favorably by 
 the Pope, and accompanied him to Capua. Anselm pre- 
 vented, by his remonstrances, the excommunication of the 
 King, who rewarded thig service by bribing the papal 
 court to desert this good servant. Anselm went to Lyons, 
 and there remained until the death of William. He was 
 invited to return to England by Henry I., was received 
 with joy, but incurred the royal displeasure by refusing to 
 receive the investiture again from the royal hands, which 
 would have been acknowledging the legality of his deposi- 
 tion. The struggle continuing, Anselm w^ent again to 
 Itome, at the request of the King, as an ambassador to the 
 Pope. The Pope insisted on the right of investiture. 
 Anselm returned to Lyons, and afterwards to his old con- 
 vent in Normandy, and there remained until a compromise 
 was effected between the papacy and the feudal system ; 
 the Pope allowing the bishops and abbots to do homage to 
 the King for their temporal possessions, but retaining the 
 right of investing them with their ecclesiastical power. 
 So ended, for Anselm, the long waifare. He returned to 
 his diocese in England, and remained there till his death. 
 
 § 10. Anselm as Metaphysician and Theologian. — "We 
 will now consider Anselm in his character as metaphysi- 
 cian and theologian. He has had the singular good for- 
 tune to construct two theological arguments which have 
 been accepted as sound by the largest part of the Christian 
 Church, The first is an argument for the existence of 
 God, called the Ontological proof; which, much objected 
 to in his own time, has been considered valid by Descartes, 
 Leibnitz, and others. 
 
152 EVENTS AND EPOCHS IN RELIGIOUS HISTORY. 
 
 It is addressed to the '' Fool who has said in his heart, 
 There is no God," and is in this form : To believe in God 
 is to believe in the most Perfect Being ; a Being, that is, 
 so perfect that none greater can be conceived. N'ow, when 
 I have the idea in my mind of sucli a Perfect Being, it 
 is impossible for me to think of him as existing only in 
 my mind and not in reality, — for then he would not be 
 the most Perfect Being ; since a being existing not merely 
 in thought but also in reality is more perfect than one 
 existing in tliought alone. It is true that the conception 
 of an object does not always imply its existence. I 
 can have in my mind the idea of a giant a hundred 
 feet hioh, without beingj oblicfed to believe in his actual 
 existence. But when I have conceived of a most Perfect 
 Beinc^, I must conceive of him as existino- ■ for other- 
 wise he would lack one element of perfection, namely 
 existence. 
 
 This is Anselm's famous metaphysical proof of the 
 existence of God. The natural objection to it is that it 
 only proves that we cannot conceive the idea of a perfect 
 being without conceiving existence as a part of that idea. 
 But this does not prove actual existence, but only ideal or 
 intellectual existence. Existence may be intellectually ne- 
 cessary to complete the idea of a perfect being ; but when 
 we have completed the idea, we have not demonstrated 
 the reality. This answer was in fact made to Anselm 
 by a contemporary monk named Gaunilo, who undertook 
 to reply on behalf of the Fool. This book bore the intrepid 
 title, " Book in Defence of the Fool against Anselm." 
 
 " This is what the Fool might say," writes Gaunilo. " You 
 tell me that because the idea of the Perfect Being is in my 
 mind I am therefore obliged to conceive of him as really exist- 
 ing. But there are atheists who, when they hear of the Perfect 
 Being, and understand the meaning of the idea, still do actually 
 
AUGUSTINE, ANSELM, AND BERNARD. 153 
 
 deny and disbelieve his existence. Because we have in our 
 minds the idea of tlie Fortunate Islands, than which nothing 
 can be more perfect, are we therefore obliged to conclude that 
 they exist, because otherwise they would lack one perfection, 
 namely existence ] " 
 
 Thus argues Cliiunilo. The argument of Anselni was 
 opposed by nearly all the great scholastic doctors of the 
 next ceutury, including Albertys Magnus, Thomas Aquinas, 
 Duns Scotus, Occam, Gerson. Thomas says that the argu- 
 ment would be only effective if we were to say there is, not 
 in the intellect only, but in reality, something than which 
 nothing greater can be conceived to exist. 
 
 In modern times the argument of Anselm has been 
 revived and its cogency reasserted by Descartes ; but he 
 has strengthened it by an additional point, namely, that if 
 the idea of the Perfect or Infinite Being is found in a finite 
 mind, it must have been put there by the Infinite Being 
 himself, who thus proves his existence by giving us the 
 idea of his existence. In this form, no doubt, the argu- 
 ment from the conception to the reality is much more 
 weighty. 
 
 Kant olijects, in the usual way, to this proof. He says : 
 "The argument is this, — we can form the notion of a 
 Being who unites all possible perfections ; but existence 
 is a perfection ; therefore we nmst attribute existence to 
 this Beincj. 
 
 "No," Kant says, "we must attribute the idea of exist- 
 ence to this being. But to add to a notion the idea of 
 existence does not enlarge it. Whether I think the thing 
 exists or does not exist, the notion of the thing remains 
 the same. The idea of a hundred dollars which exists is 
 precisely the same as the idea of a hundred dollars which 
 does not exist." 
 
 Hegel takes the opposite side, and considers the argu- 
 
154 EVENTS AND EPOCHS IN KELIGIOUS HISTORY. 
 
 ment of Anselm, Spinoza, and Descartes to be solid ; and 
 this because, to him, thought and existence are identical. 
 
 I suppose we may say that no one was ever convinced 
 of the existence of God by such arguments as these. We 
 believe in God because we are made to believe in him, 
 because it is natural to believe in him, and because we 
 find this natural belief to grow deeper, purer, stronger, in 
 proportion to our spiritual elevation and the devotion of 
 our life to the good and true. It makes us better to 
 believe in God ; and the better we are the more we believe 
 in him. But the intellectual value of this argument seems 
 to amount to this, — that the human mind is so made that 
 it cannot but believe in the existence of a Supreme Being 
 whenever the idea of that Being enters the intellect. The 
 atheist is either one who, by some singularity of his mental 
 structure, is incapable of receiving the idea, — that is, 
 whose mind is exceptional ; or else he is one who actually 
 does believe in the existence of a Perfect Being, but calls 
 him by some other name, — Nature, Force, the Spirit of 
 the Universe, or the like. 
 
 The other great intellectual exploit of Anselm w^as the 
 establishment of a theory of the Atonement, which re- 
 mained the orthodox doctrine in the church for about five 
 hundred years, or until the time of Grotius ; and which is 
 still accepted and taught by many theologians. 
 
 The theory of the Atonement held in the Church during 
 the first thousand years was founded on the Scripture 
 words "ransom" and "redemption" as applied to the 
 forgiveness of sin. It was derived from the analogy of 
 war, in which captives became slaves unless redeemed by 
 some one who paid a ransom for them. The enemy of 
 souls with whom we contend is the Devil. By our sins 
 we become his lawful prey. Christ's death w^as the 
 ransom paid to the Devil; which being paid we are 
 
A.UGUSTINE, AN.SKI..M, AND HKIINARD. 155 
 
 redeemed. This may be called the " Warlike theory of the 
 Atonement." 
 
 Then came the theory of Anselm, based not on the 
 word " ransom " but on the word " debt." " Forgive us our 
 debts." The debt is i)ei"f"ect obedience, and is due not to 
 the Devil, but to God. This debt man is unaljle to pay, — 
 but Christ, who is God, fulfils this obligation for us. So 
 Anselm argues ; and his argument'' may be called the 
 " Legal theory of the Atonement." 
 
 Anselm's theory of the Atonement became the accepted 
 doctrine in the Church until the time of the Reforma- 
 tion. Since that time it lias ceased to be the usually 
 received orthodo.x form of the doctrine. But consider 
 what is meant by having one man's belief on such a sub- 
 ject become the belief of the whole Church during such a 
 period. It means that during that time every man's feel- 
 ing toward God and Christ was more or less modified by 
 Anselm's metaphysics. It means that no sinner sought 
 pardon or offered prayer throughout Christendom but his 
 hopes were somewhat colored by the convictions born in 
 the mind of this ruler of thought. He who governs thought 
 governs action ; for as we think, so we become. Let the 
 name of Anselm, therefore, remain as one of the motor- 
 forces of the world. 
 
 A few days before Anselm's death, being seventy-five 
 years old, he was told by one of his friends that it was 
 thought he could not live many days. He said : " If this 
 is Goil's will I am content, but I should like to live long 
 enough to solve a question I am examining about the 
 origin of the soul ; especially as I know that when I am 
 gone there will be no one left who can do it." His life has 
 been recorded by a faithful monk.^ 
 
 ^ One of the latest and best works on the life and times of Anselm is 
 that of M. Chnrlcs de Remusat, of the French Academy, the distinguished 
 statesman and writer. 
 
156 EVENTS AND EPOCHS IN RELIGIOUS HISTORY. 
 
 The moral of the life of Anselm is the immortality 
 there is in tlioiight. Anselm the Monk would long since 
 have been forgotten with the multitude of other monks 
 who said their quiet prayers in a thousand monasteries 
 during the eleventh century. Anselm the Archbishop and 
 Statesman might have been remembered longer, but only 
 by historians and students of the by-ways of history. But 
 Anselm the Thinker, who succeeded in thinking out a new 
 theolooical arc^ument and a new form of Christian doctrine, 
 will have a name forever among the leaders of human 
 opinion. His theory of the Atonement, mutilated, indeed, 
 and dilapidated, is, nevertheless, still preached in numerous 
 pulpits by honest men who think they have found it in 
 the Bible, — not knowing that it came to them from the 
 brain of an Italian monk meditating by the Seine some 
 centuries ago. 
 
 There are many who sympathize with Comte in think- 
 ing that the age of theology and that of metapliysics 
 have gone forever; and that only positive knowledge, 
 only the science w^hich studies the outward world, is 
 to remain. 
 
 But who knows ? Let us only imagine a new soul to 
 come into the world, gifted like those of Augustine and 
 Anselm, going down so deep into his own heart as to feel 
 what is in all other hearts, — going up so high in his 
 aspiration toward the All-Perfect as to be able to add to 
 nature a divine presence ; al)le also to take in all that sci- 
 ence teaches of law, and all that the gospel teaches of life ; 
 illuminating religion with the light of universal knowl- 
 edge, and making science alive with love. Let such an 
 one come and formulate this large synthesis for mankind, 
 teaching us — 
 
 " How to o'ernile the hard divorce 
 Which parts things natural and divine;" 
 
AUGUSTINE, ANSELM, AND liERNARD. 157 
 
 and perhaps sucli a <;raii(l thL'ulo<,ry and iiictai)liysics may- 
 be the beginning of a new era of thought for the world. 
 rerha})S we ^^lH)ul(l then gladly rescue ourselves out of 
 the halfness in wliich wc live, into such a s])liere of 
 universal trutli, — the harmony of all knowledge and all 
 life. 
 
 § 11. aSV. Bernard. FcaddlUm. JJrriiard joim the Cis- 
 tercian Moiihs, ami founds the Abhe// of Clair vanx. — From 
 Anselm we pass to St. lUrnaid IJcrnard, Ablxjt of Clair- 
 vaux, was boin near I)ij(»n in Uurgundy A. I). 1091. 
 He was son of a knight who dilfered fi'om most of his 
 brother barons in being gentle in manners, a friend of the 
 poor, and having an incredible zeal ior justice. His wife, 
 Alith, was loving and devout. Their son inherited the 
 sense of justice of one and the piety of the other, and a 
 courage which may have been transmitted to him from 
 a long line of warrioi-s. His own life was a perpetual 
 battle, — a conflict to the death with the evil, or what he 
 deemed evil, in the woild around him. Longing for the 
 peace of his convent and for quiet communion with God, 
 he was obliged constantly to leave this calm atmosphere 
 in order to settle disputes between princes and people, 
 popes and kings, thinkers and writers. And he never 
 hesitated to go, never shrank from these duties, never 
 doubted that he should have power to lultil them. So it 
 came to pa.ss that whenever the Chui'ch or the World got 
 into a difficulty which no one else could possibly settle, 
 they sent for the Abbot of Clairvau.x, and he succeeded in 
 deciding the question and bringing ]>eaoe. 
 
 It was a fierce world into which Bernard camo. Every 
 man was killing or being killed, plundering or being plun- 
 dered, oppres.sing others or being o])pre.ssed himself, — all 
 but the monks. Every one else was obliged to take arms 
 
158 EVENTS AND EPOCHS IN RELIGIOUS HISTORY. 
 
 at a moriient's warning- and follow his feudal lord to the 
 field, to fight he did not know wliy, with some persons 
 with whom lie had no quarrel. This was feudalism. 
 
 Feudalism has been often defined, but seldom very 
 clearly. The simplest definition, I think, is this : the per- 
 manent encampment of an army in a conquered country. 
 The invading races of Germans who overran France, Italy, 
 Spain, and England, were stronger than the population they 
 conquered, because the invaders were massed and in mo- 
 tion, while the conquered were scattered and at rest. The 
 momentum of a moving body was their strength; but when 
 they settled in the conquered country they lost this advan- 
 tage, and were few in numbers compared with the con- 
 quered people. Therefore the conquerors arranged a system 
 by which each tenant held his land by being ready to do 
 military service at any moment. The common soldier had 
 his ten acres of land, we will say, on condition of coming at 
 once armed when his captain called him. The captain had 
 his hundred acres on condition of coming with his company 
 when his colonel called him. The colonel had his thou- 
 sand acres on condition of comimr with his regiment when 
 his general sent for him. So whenever this general (diox or 
 duke) had a quarrel with a neighboring general or duke, 
 he called out his dependents ; and they had to go, or lose 
 their lands. This, in a nutshell, was the feudal system, 
 and it entailed perpetual wars on the countries where it 
 existed. 
 
 The monks alone were not compelled to fight, though 
 their vassals miojht be ; and the monasteries were often, 
 though not always, at peace. The knights on their way to 
 battle could hear in the hush of night the peaceful sound 
 of convent bells, — 
 
 " Over some wide-watered shore 
 Swinging slow with solemn roar ; " 
 
AUGUSTINE, ANSELM, AND BERNARD. 159 
 
 or coming from tlie depths of tlie woods where the monas- 
 tery slept in serene quiet. 
 
 Bernard, after seeing enongli of tlie figliting world, de- 
 cided for the monastery. Twelve' miles from l)ij()n was 
 the Abbey of Citeaux,^ founded only a few years before, Ijut 
 bound by very strict rules. Bernard, who did everything 
 thoroughly, in becoming a monk meant to be a real monk ; 
 so he chose Citeaux, which in time came to be the mother- 
 abbey of the great Cistercian order, and numbered three 
 thousand six hundred abbeys subject to itself. But at this 
 time it was poor enough, and the monks could hardly keep 
 themselves alive. The buildings of this famous abbey still 
 exist, but have been turned into a reformatory school for 
 juvenile oflenders. Bernard, who Avas a born preacher, 
 could not rest till he had persuaded others to join him ; 
 and such was the power of his words that he soon had a 
 number of converts, among them one or two knights. AVith 
 about thirty of these, after a time given to solitary devo- 
 tion, he went to Citeaux, and began his monastic career. 
 Here he communed with God not only in the church but 
 in the lonely woods. " Trust my experience," said he. 
 " You will find something greater in the woods than in 
 books. Stones and trees will teach you. The mountains 
 drop sweetness, and you will suck oil from the flinty rock." 
 
 When he entered Citeaux he was twenty-two. Two 
 years after, he led twelve monks on foot, ninety miles, to 
 found a new abbey, that of Clairvaux. The monks erected 
 the building themselves. The earth was the floor, and a 
 few slits in the wall the windows. They slept on drie 1 
 leaves, in wooden boxes, and lived on herbs and water. 
 Afterward this abbey became one of the most magnificent 
 in France, and at present what remains of it has become a 
 capacious prison. In this valley of Wormwood, as it was 
 
 1 See Plato XL 
 
160 EVENTS AND EPOCHS IN RELIGIOUS HISTORY.. 
 
 called, Bernard and his monks nearly starved ; but their 
 voluntary poverty made them popular and excited sym- 
 pathy, and this brought them finally fame and wealth.^ 
 
 But here, at first, Bernard practised such austerities that 
 he nearly killed himself. His friend, the Bishop of Cha- 
 lons, tried to convince him that this was wrong, but inef- 
 fectually. At last the good Bishop bethought himself of 
 another plan. The Bishop asked the Abbot of Citeaux, who 
 was Bernard's superior, to delegate to him, for a year, that 
 authority. This being granted, he ordered Bernard to leave 
 the convent and live in a comfortable house, under the 
 care of a physician, and to take such food as the physician 
 directed. Bernard at once obeyed, for obedience to Ins 
 superior was one of his vow^s. So his life was saved for 
 great uses. 
 
 About this time Bernard began to work miracles. He 
 cured his friend, William of Thierry, of a very serious ill- 
 ness by a few words of encouragement. 
 
 Afterward, later in life, he performed many more such 
 miracles. In those days men were expecting miracles and 
 found them. Bernard himself, however, seemed a good deal 
 surprised at his own power. Having, by means of a bless- 
 ing, cured a man who had kept his bed for seven months, 
 he said : " I can't think what these miracles mean, or why 
 God works them by me. Such wonders are wrouglit either 
 by holy men or by deceivers. I am neither a holy man nor 
 a deceiver. Perhaps, however, they are done for the good 
 of others." 
 
 § 12. Bernard rebukes Kings, Poj)es, and Prelates. He 
 decides, hy his great authority, disinUes in tlie Church and 
 State. — The next event in the life of Bernard arose out of 
 a dispute between Louis VI. of France, a wise and good 
 king, and the Bishop of Paris, in regard to the taxation of 
 
 1 See Plate X. for the ground-plan of the Abbey of Clairvaux. 
 
AUGUSTINE, ANSELM, AND UEUNARD. IGl 
 
 ecclesiastical persons, wliicli ended in the kingdom being 
 put under an interdict by tlie Archbishop of Sens. Follow- 
 ing this was a solemn letter addressed to the King by the 
 Abbot of Citeaux, calling on him, in tlie name of the 
 Almighty, to make peace with the J^ishop. From that 
 home of poverty came forth this voice of calm authority. 
 
 lUit it seems that the King had appealed to the Pope, 
 and the Pope had taken off the interdict, which placed our 
 friends of Citeaux and Clairvaux in rather a ridiculous 
 position ; whereupon Bernard lifted up his voice and re- 
 buked the Pope, as he did more than once in after days. 
 Bernard was no respecter of persons when he thought a 
 question of right was at stake. 
 
 Next came Bernard's dispute with the monks of Cluny. 
 This abbey, founded more than two hundred years before, 
 had reached a high degree of wealth and splendor. The 
 abbot was like a king. He coined money. He governed 
 a province. He could summon a chapter of 3000 monks. 
 In one year he relieved, at the gate of his abbey, 17,000 
 poor persons. This power and wealth made the existing 
 abbot so proud, wayward, and prodigal, that much scandal 
 came from it. His name was Pontius ; and having been 
 expelled for his irregularities, he collected a body of follow- 
 ers, broke open the gates, and plundered the monastery. 
 
 In the midst of tliis tumult Bernard once more spoke. 
 He wrote a letter, in Mhich he rebuked these Cluniac 
 monks for their luxury and pride. His invectives were 
 severe against the display in their churches. He by no 
 mejins approved of the rich decorations of their buildings, 
 and had a sort of Quaker feeling in favor of a very plain 
 church. He did not foresee that his own church at Clair- 
 vaux would one day become the most magnificent in all 
 France. 
 
 Then came the great papal schism, in which two 
 
 11 
 
162 EVENTS AND EPOCHS IN EELIGIOUS HISTOIIY. 
 
 popes claimed, each at the same time, to be the supreme 
 ruler of the Church. Bernard at once took sides with 
 Innocent against Anacletus. Again he left his cell to 
 settle the affairs of Universal Christendom. Under his 
 influence all France, with one exception, took part with 
 Innocent; but William, Lord of Aquitaine, was firmly 
 devoted to Anacletus. Bishops and abbots of this party 
 had been put in full possession of all the great ecclesias- 
 tical positions in that important province. No one could 
 arrange this difficult point but . Bernard. The Count of 
 Aquitaine was perfectly willing to acknowledge Innocent, 
 but no power on earth, he said, should induce him to 
 restore the bishops whom he had expelled, who had mor- 
 tally offended him. Thereupon Bernard went into a church 
 to celebrate mass, leaving the Count on the outside as an 
 excommunicated person, who might not enter. Having 
 consecrated the elements, he came out with eyes flam- 
 ing with light, bearing the Host, and went directly to the 
 Count, saying : " The servants of God have begged and 
 implored, and you have despised our prayer. Behold the 
 Son of Grod, who comes to command ! Your Judge is liere, 
 into whose hands your soul will shortly go to answer for 
 this deed ! Obey him, or die forever ! " Hearing these 
 words and seeing the awful expression in the face of the 
 Prophet, the Count grew stiff in every limb and fell on the 
 ground as if dying. He could neither speak nor see, but 
 lay foaming at the mouth. Bernard went to him, and 
 said : " Else, and obey your Lord ! Go and give the kiss 
 of peace to this bishop whom you have expelled ! " The 
 Count arose and obeyed, and they became reconciled to 
 each other ; for those were days in which all who taught, 
 and all who heard, firmly believed in the same supernatu- 
 ral powers present in their midst. Eeligious awe was a 
 mighty force. Those cruel knights, half of whose lives 
 
AUGUSTINE, ANSELM, AND UEUNARD. 163 
 
 were spent in plunder and murder, spent the other half in 
 trembling before a (Jod of vengeance. 
 
 After this came Bernard's struggle with Abelard, tlie 
 arch-heretic of tlie time. His heresy concerned the doc- 
 trine of the Trinity, which lie did not deny, but only 
 explained; but to Bernard it was dangerous and wrong to 
 attempt to explain a mystery, and he successfully put 
 forth all his vast energy to silence tliis dangerous inno- 
 vator. Abelard, a man of wonderful intellectual })ower, 
 was followed by thousands of hearers, lie represented the 
 spirit of inquiry, of investigation, — the coming age of free 
 thought. Opposed to him was Bernard, who stood for 
 implicit faitli in all established doctrines, and to whom to 
 incpiire was the same thing as to disbelieve. Abelard 
 lived several hundred years too soon, and was obliged to 
 submit, as every one else submitted, to the imperious will of 
 this religious dictator of the twelfth century. 
 
 Feeble in body, liable to frequent disease, the powerful 
 spirit of Bernard ruled the flesh and compelled its weak- 
 ness to become strength. He preached, lectured, and wrote 
 innumerable letters to all parts of Christendom. He was 
 the real Pope of his day. And his letters were not the 
 diminutive notes of our time. There was no cheap post- 
 age then, and a letter meant a letter. Each letter was a 
 treatise ; and on every matter of interest which arose he 
 wrote several of these treatises. The Church of Lyons 
 saw fit to celebrate a festival to the Immaculate Conception 
 of the Virgin. What the Church of Lyons did, you will 
 say, was no concern of Bernard, Abbot of Clairvaux. l^ut 
 everything which touched religion or morals was his con- 
 cern ; so he wrote a long letter tp them remonstrating 
 against this innovation. This doctrine of the Immaculate 
 Conception, which Pope Pio Nono, in 1854, declared a 
 doctrine of faith, was opposed by nearly every great doctor 
 
164 EVENTS AND EPOCHS IN RELIGIOUS HISTORY. 
 
 and saint of the Church in the twelfth and thirteenth cen- 
 turies, — by St. Bernard, St. Thomas Aquinas, and St. 
 Bonaventura. 
 
 § 13. He ]pTectclies the Second Crusade; opposes the persecio- 
 tion of the Jeivs ; admonishes the Pope of his duties. — Once 
 more he was called on to leave his convent to preach the 
 Second Crusade, A.D. 1147. Here his habit of accepting 
 the ideas of his time led to disastrous results. Bernard 
 was sick, feeble, prematurely old. The fiery soul had 
 fretted the puny body to decay ; but the Pope called on 
 him to go out and preach a second crusade for the recovery 
 of the land conquered by the Infidels. He arose, forgot 
 his weakness, and went. Wherever that pale, thin face 
 appeared, wherever that voice of wonderful power was 
 heard, society was dissolved, and men took up the cross. 
 He moved through France, and the whole male population 
 was roused to an enthusiasm of devotion. He went into 
 Germany, and the' same results followed. The German 
 Emperor, Conrad, had made up his mind to stay at home ; 
 but Bernard came and, before all the people, rebuked him 
 in the name of Christ for his indifference, till the Emperor 
 burst into tears and consented to go. 
 
 Two great armies, under the King of France and the 
 Emperor of Germany, set out for the Holy Land. The 
 chivalry of Europe was there. Multitudes were destroyed 
 either by disease or the sword of the Moslem. Some were 
 sold as slaves by the Greek Christians. Many embraced 
 the Mohammedan faith. Very few returned to Europe. 
 
 Though Bernard made a terrible mistake in this matter, 
 his nobleness of soul appeared in defending the Jews 
 against their Christian persecutors. A monk named Bo- 
 dolph travelled along the Rhine, inflaming the people 
 against the Jews till they were slaughtered in great num- 
 bers. When Bernard heard of it his wrath was kindled 
 
AUGUSTINE, ANSELM, AND BERNARD. 1G5 
 
 by this wickedness, and he ])reached and wrote against 
 these atrocities, and commanded tliat they should cease. 
 " Itodolph ! " said he, " thy doctrine is of the Devil, who 
 sent thee. He was a murderer and liar from the begin- 
 ning, and thou art his child." He met Eodolph face to 
 face, and sent him back in shame to liis convent. 
 
 At another time he wrote a long letter to the Poj^e, 
 Innocent II., whom he had greatly helped to regain the 
 papacy, plainly rebuking him for liis faults. He was a 
 churchman and priest throughout, but he could not " cry 
 Peace where there was no peace." He was as ready to 
 denounce a pope's sins as those of any other man. He 
 addressed the Pope in these words: — 
 
 " The churches complain that they are mutilated and wounded. 
 By your permission abbots are withdrawn from the authority of 
 bishops ; bishops from that of archbishops. By doing this you 
 show your authority, indeed, but not your justice. You act 
 thus because you are able to do so — but whether you ought 
 to do so is another question. ... Is it not unbecoming in you 
 to have no law but your own will ; and, because there is no 
 tribunal above you, to exert your power and despise reason 1 
 Are you greater than our Lord, who said * I have not come to 
 do mine own will ' ] Do you, who possess the whole, envy 
 others their little share ] Remember the crime of Ahab who, 
 being lord of all, yet desired another man's vineyard. May 
 God preserve you from hearing the words, 'Thou hast killed 
 and taken possession.' " 
 
 § 14. Augustine, Anschn, and Bernard the property of 
 the whole Church, Catholic arul Protestant. — Such were the 
 great souls who did good work for religion and humanity 
 during the dark centuries. They labored, and we have 
 entered into their labors. They belong to Protestants no 
 less than to Catholics. They lived in periods when the 
 Catholic and Protestant elements were included in a com- 
 
166 EVENTS AND EPOCHS IN RELIGIOUS HISTORY. 
 
 mon communion. In fact, each of these represents a Prot- 
 estant idea, — Augustine that of personal salvation by faith 
 in Christ ; Anselm, of freedom in intellectual inquiry ; Ber^ 
 nard, of the superiority of the moral to the ecclesiastical 
 law. Without Augustine we should hardly have had 
 Luther. Anselm taught that every doctrine must be shown 
 to be in accord with human reason. Bernard must always 
 stand for the supremacy of righteousness over secular and 
 ecclesiastical authority.. In him was embodied the Higher 
 Law.^ 
 
 1 The Church historian, Joseph Milner, — of whom it has been said 
 that "the principles on which he wrote were narrow, his scholarship 
 poor, and his critical insight poorest of all," — had at least the merit of 
 seeing the worth of these three Catholic saints, and claiming them as the 
 founders and fathers of genuine Protestantism. 
 
JEANNE D'AKC. 167 
 
 VI 
 JEANNE D'AEC. 
 
 § 1. Sources of Information concerning her. State of 
 France wJien she appeared. — We have considered some 
 striking events and luminous points in religious history. 
 We have taken a look at Christianity in the Catacombs ; 
 at tlie lUiddhist monks in their monasteries ; at the wild 
 solitary hermits of the third and fourth centuries ; at the 
 monastic life of tlie following period ; at the power wielded 
 by the Fathers and Doctors of the Church in the middle- 
 ages. Let us come a little nearer to our own time, and 
 descend tlie current of history two centuries. Again we 
 come to France, the scene of St. Bernard's laboi*s. And 
 now the power of faith to remove mountains and change 
 the course of history is to be seen not in any great Saint 
 or Doctor but in an innocent ])easant, — a young girl 
 hardly more than a child, but in whom a spirit dwelt that 
 has made her one of the wonders of the ages. Her great- 
 ness consists in this, that she did everything by pure force 
 of soul. 
 
 It is a renuirkaljle fact that we have almost as full and 
 exact account of the life of Jeanne as if we had known her 
 ourselves.^ 
 
 1 Five large octavo volumes, edited by Jules Quich(M-at in 1854, repro- 
 duced, in the old Latin and French, the oilicial record of the two trials of 
 Condemnation and Revision. This is taken tVom the orijrinal manu- 
 
168 EVENTS AND EPOCHS IN liELIGlOUS HlSTOllY. 
 
 After sleeping four hundred years in the Eoyal Library 
 at Paris, a cloud of witnesses come forth from their graves 
 to declare what they knew and saw. Ninety had appeared 
 before the court of Ee vision to testify in her favor, — thirty- 
 four of them from her native town. Three of the greatest 
 generals of Erance — Dunois, D'Alengon, and De Gau- 
 court — bear witness to her military prowess. We have 
 her own words given in answer to thirty public and pri- 
 vate examinations during her trials. Thus her whole life 
 is photographed for us as by a sunbeam. 
 
 The four hundred and fifty years which have passed since 
 the death of the Maid of Orleans have purified her memory 
 from the stains with which prejudice and ignorance had 
 soiled it ; but it has been reserved for the nineteenth 
 century to do full justice to the lieroine of the fifteenth. 
 A noble German poet has illustrated her character in one 
 of his most charming dramas ; and, since the time of Schil- 
 ler, ])atient research has discovered, araoni^ the contempo- 
 rary memoirs of the period in wliicli s]ie lived, and in the 
 records of her two trials, the amplest means of vindicating 
 her pure and noble virtues. 
 
 Jeanne dArc was put to death by the sentence of the 
 Eoman Catholic Church in May, 1431. Twenty years 
 had hardly elapsed when a tribunal of the same Church 
 
 scripts in the BiUiotheqne Eoyale. Those records were translated into 
 modem French, and published in 1858 in two large octavo volumes, by 
 E. O'Reilly, Counsellor of the Imperial Court at Rouen. Again, M. Wal- 
 lon, Secretary of the Academy of Inscriptions, has collected in one vol- 
 ume, published in 1876, every important fact bearing on this story. 
 Besides all this, there have been in the last few years many other works 
 treating of separate questions in regard to the Maid of Orleans, — such as 
 "Jeanne D' Arc in Literature," "in Poetry," "in Art"; monographs on 
 her portraits and statues, on her family, on the ])laces she visited ; and fac- 
 similes of her letters. Most of these publications are in the Boston Public 
 Library. Our illustrations are taken from the Edition de luxe of Wallon. 
 
Plate XV. 
 
 Fig. 1. Home of Jkanne d'Arc at Domhkmy. 
 
 Fig. 2. Church at Provias, 
 
JEANNE D'ARC. IGO 
 
 re-examined and reversed the sentence. The King of France, 
 whose lailing fortunes she had restored, but who had made 
 no effort to save her in her i)eril, was now better advised, 
 and ordered a new trial of her case. Pope Calixtus III., 
 in consequence of this royal demand, and in compliance 
 with the request of the niotlier and brothers of the heroic 
 girl, directed the Archbishop of Eeims and the Bishops 
 of Paris and Coutances to preside on the occasion. Seven 
 or eight mouths were occupied in this investigation. Wit- 
 nesses came from all parts to testify in her favor. Tlie old 
 people from lier native town ; the younger companions of 
 lier cliildhood ; Dunois and the Duke d'Alen^on, both com- 
 rades in her military leadership ; Louis de Contes, her page; 
 D'Aulon, her squire ; Pasquerel, her confessor ; those who 
 saw her in her prison, and those who stood near her at the 
 scaffold ; even the officials and notaries employed by her 
 enemies, — all appeared in turns to testify to some sepa- 
 rate trait in her lovely character. In their depositions was 
 revealed the pure and modest life of the young girl in her 
 fixther's home, — her simplicity of character and inspired 
 firmness of soul duriucr her famous career. All these wit- 
 nesses testified to her patience amid her sufferings after 
 she fell into the hands of the English, and to her boldness 
 before tlie tribunal of her enemies. They also described 
 the sudden illumtnations which showed her the crafty pur- 
 poses of her judges. After hearing this evidence the court 
 declared that the charges brought against Jeanne were 
 calumnious and false, and the former sentence null and of 
 no effect. Tliey commanded that this decree be read pub- 
 licly in the place where she had been so cruelly put to death, 
 and also in the city of Orleans which she had delivered. 
 
 Thus there is no history which rests on more authentic 
 materials than that of Jeanne d'Arc. The English, not 
 satisfied witli putting her to death with the utmost bar- 
 
170 EVENTS AND EPOCHS IN KELIGIOUS HISTORY. 
 
 barity, endeavored to blast her reputation and destroy her 
 character by the sentence of the ecclesiastical courts. That 
 no monument might ever be built over her remainS; they 
 cast her ashes into the Seine ; but, unconsciously, they had 
 erected a far nobler monument to her memory in the trial 
 itself. 
 
 Beautiful as is Schiller's drama, and well as he has 
 delineated her character, no one, we think, can read the 
 simple memoirs of her life, and the events of her short 
 career, without feeling that these constitute a far nobler 
 poem. Nothing can surpass the touching beauty of the 
 facts themselves. 
 
 In 1422 Charles VI., King of France, died. In the same 
 year his son, Charles VIL, was crowned at Poitiers ; and 
 the English King, Henry VI., was also crowned in Paris as 
 King of France and of England. The affairs of Charles 
 VII. were nearly desperate. The English occupied Nor- 
 mandy, Champagne, Picardy, the Isle of France, and 
 Guienne. The Duke of Burgundy, one of the most pow- 
 erful princes of Europe, was their ally ; and so was Isa- 
 bella, Queen of France, the mother of Charles himself. 
 
 The English generals, Salisbury, Warwick, Talbot, Arun- 
 del, Somerset, were the greatest captains of the age. The 
 English soldiers, flushed with victory, expected another 
 Cre^y or Agincourt in every battle. The French, dispir- 
 ited, expected always defeat. Disaster, poverty, and dis- 
 grace seemed to have permanently settled upon the French 
 court and nation, 
 
 § 2. Her early Life and her Visions. — It was in the 
 midst of this state of things that a peasant girl, seventeen 
 years old, reversed the tide of events, overthrew the Eng- 
 lish power, and in less than a year, driving their victorious 
 armies before her in all directions, saved her King and 
 nation from destruction. 
 
JEANNE D'AEC. 171 
 
 Jeanne d'Arc was born Jan. G, 1412, in tlie village of 
 Domreniy, which is situated on the river Meuse, in 
 the northeastern part of France, on the borders of Lor- 
 raine and Champagne, and not far from the town of 
 Neufchateau. 
 
 The Burgimdians, who sided witli the English in the 
 wars of the fifteenth century, claimed Lorraine to the line 
 of the Mouse, and this border region was the battle-field 
 of both parties. Its inhabitants sufiered from both sides, 
 and were the subjects of neither. The people of Dom- 
 remy, however, took part with Charles VII. of France, and 
 the children of this village fought with the children of a 
 neighboring village, wlio were in favor of Burgundy. In 
 1428, when Jeanne was about sixteen years old, the village 
 of Domremy was ravaged by a party of Burgundians, and 
 the inhabitants were forced to fly to the neighboring walled 
 town of Neufchateau. Jeanne took refuge there for five 
 days with her father and mother, living at an inn. 
 
 In such situations as these people become thoughtful 
 and poetic, of which the minstrelsy of the Scottish border 
 affords a proof ; and even the peasantry often take a strong 
 interest in national affairs. 
 
 The father of Jeanne was a poor man, having only a few 
 sheep and cattle. He had five children, three sons and 
 two daui'hters. 
 
 Jeanne never learned to read or write ; she usually made 
 two crosses at the top of the letters she dictated.^ Siie 
 
 1 Jeanne's name is signed to several documents of which the originals 
 still exist. We give the fac-simile of one of them (page 189), addressed to 
 the inhabitants of Riom, dated Nov. 9, 1429. Another, to the inliabi- 
 tants of Reims, dated March 16, 1430, four montlis later, has her name 
 formed in a vt'ry similar way. The letters in each signature resemble 
 each other so exactly that they were evidently written by the same hand. 
 It is not probable, though no doubt possible, that the same scribe should 
 have written both documents ; but the fact which seems to prove th:it 
 
172 EVENTS AND EPOCHS IN RELIGIOUS HISTOKY. 
 
 was taught to sew and spin, to repeat the Pater Noster 
 and the Credo. The depositions contained in the " Process 
 of Eevision " all testify that she was simple, chaste, modest, 
 patient, charitable, and pious. " I would that God had 
 given me as good a daughter as she was," said oue. The 
 commissioner sent by the English to Domremy to inquire 
 into her early life reported that he could learn nothing 
 which he would not have wished to find in that of his own 
 sister. 
 
 Jeanne worked in the field with her father, ploughing, 
 weeding, harvesting, and also watched the sheep. At 
 home she spun and helped in the household work, and 
 when she had no work to do, she was found kneeling in 
 the village church. 
 
 While in the fields, whenever the church bell rang, she 
 knelt and prayed. The bell ringer not being always punct- 
 ual, she reproached him for it, and promised him money if 
 he would be more exact. A girl, Hauviette, her companion 
 from childhood, thus testifies : "Many's the time I have been 
 at her father's ; she was a good girl, simple and gentle." 
 
 A laborinij man, who was examined, said she used to 
 tend the sick and give to the poor. " 1 know it well," he 
 said ; " I was a child then, and she tended me." 
 
 Her soul was nourished by prayer and the contempla- 
 tion of nature. From her father's door, she could see the 
 borders of the great oak forest of the Vosges. A beech- 
 tree, so beautiful as to be visited by the country people 
 
 this was not the case is that where the same word occurs in the body 
 of the two documents it is often written quite differently. Though 
 she declared that she did not "know A, B, or C," she may yet have 
 learned to sign her name. I cannot find this question discussed in any 
 of the works on her biography. I have been told of a French coasting- 
 captain, sailing from Boston, who had just this knowledge. He signed 
 his name, " Dominique Gerroir," to all documents, but could not other- 
 wise write, or read writing. 
 
JEANNE D'ARC. 173 
 
 who danced under its shade, and celebrated as the haunt 
 of fairies, was lier favorite resort. 
 
 But there was no superstition or gloom in her piety. 
 Being questioned at her trial as to the tree, she said that 
 her godmother told her she saw fairies under it, hut she 
 herself never did. Her visions came in midday, in lier 
 father's garden ur on the blossoming heatli, and a])peared 
 to lier as angels and saints, surrounded by an aureole of 
 light. Of these supernatural appearances which were seen 
 only by herself, we of course have only her own account, 
 and in speaking of them we shall adhere to this. She 
 never varied from her statements, from first to last. At 
 present we can only say that to her, at least, they were 
 real. Her faith in them was her support amid her 
 trials, the strength by which she overcame obstacles. 
 She first saw these visions in her thirteenth year. One 
 sunnner's day an extraordinary light appeared to her as 
 she was working in her father's garden, and a voice told 
 her to " be good and trust in God." She says, in her ex- 
 amination, that she was affrighted, and from that moment 
 consecrated herself as a virsjin to God. 
 
 Again a vision came to her, while keeping sheep alone 
 on the meadows, and this time she saw the figure of an 
 archangel with wings and a very noble air (un ires vray 
 prudhoinmc), with other angels. These figures she saw 
 " with her bodily eyes." St. Michael told her she was to 
 save France, and that she was to go to the aid of King 
 Charles. Jeanne wept. She told the angel she could not 
 mount a horse nor command an army. The angel told her 
 to go to Vaucouleurs and find the captain there, who would 
 send her to the Kincr. 
 
 This vision, in which her mission was first revealed to 
 Ihm-, was in 1425, wlien she was only thirteen years old. 
 She did not, liowovcr, at first bcli(*ve that it was St. Michael 
 
174 EVENTS AND EPOCHS IN RELIGIOUS HISTORY. 
 
 (Elle fist grande doute si c'estoit St. Michiel). The vision 
 was three times repeated, and the angel spoke of "the 
 pity that there was for the kingdom of France" {pitie qui 
 esioit au royaulme). After this, she saw also two female 
 saints, St. Marguerite and St. Catherine, who constantly 
 talked to her. 
 
 She called them her "Voices." Her respect for them 
 was profound. She kissed the earth where they had stood; 
 and wept, when they had gone, that they had not taken 
 her with them. 
 
 But solid and deep natures, though open to impressions 
 and very receptive of influences, are not hastily moved by 
 them. Two or three times a week her Voices spoke to her, 
 telling her that she must go and deliver the kingdom. 
 There was a painful struggle in her soul, between her dread 
 of the greatness of the task and its responsibility, and her 
 conscientious sense of the duty to submit to this high call. 
 
 As she grew up, the beautiful female saints — floating in 
 an atmosphere of light, their heads adorned w^ith crowns, 
 their voices gentle and sweet — continued to visit her, and 
 that more frequently. She declares that she had three 
 counsellors, one of whom remained near her, one came and 
 went, and the third advised with them. 
 
 By degrees the conviction became fixed in her mind 
 that she was the person pointed out in an old prophecy of 
 Merlin, current in the country, which declared "that a 
 woman should one day destroy France, and a virgin from 
 the Marches of Lorraine should restore it." ^ With this 
 conviction came the determination of this pure soul to 
 consecrate her life to the w^ork. 
 
 And now she had to encounter difficulties. Her father 
 had suspected her state of mind, and was troubled by it. 
 
 ^ The Queen Isabella had evidently fulfdled the first part of the pre- 
 diction. 
 
JEANNE D'ARC. 175 
 
 He swore he would rather see her drowned than go off 
 with the soldiers.^ 
 
 He could not understand her state of mind, and the 
 prophet had no honor in her father's house. Her hardest 
 trial was to choose whether to disobey her parents or the 
 heavenly monitors. 
 
 They tried to keep her at home by a trick. A young 
 man cited her before the bishop's court at Toul, alleging 
 that she had promised to marry him ; but she went to 
 Toul, and easily convinced the oliicials there that the 
 assertion was false. 
 
 Determined now on going to Vaucouleurs, she obtained 
 permission to visit an uncle and stay a few days witli him. 
 He was named Durand Laxart, and lived at the village of 
 Petit Bury. 
 
 He was her first convert, and at her request went to ask 
 the Captain, Baudricourt, to send her to the King ; but 
 the Captain thought it all nonsense, and told the old man 
 he had been made a fool of by his niece, and had better go 
 home and give her a good slapping {dare ei vapulas). This 
 new view of the subject staggered the feeble faith of the 
 uncle, and he went back and communicated it to Jeanne ; 
 but she induced him to take her to see the Captain at 
 Vaucouleurs, and though she had no argument to use 
 besides her own strong conviction and her evident piety, 
 these at last broke down the resistance of the somewhat 
 coarse-minded captain, who ended by sending her with an 
 escort of seven men to the King, at Chinon, with a pass 
 from Charles, Duke of Lorraine. 
 
 § 3. She departs on her Mission to deliver France. — It 
 was in February, 1429, when she was seventeen years old, 
 
 ^ These are liis wonls, preserved by a witness, in the old Frencli : — 
 '* Si je cuidoye que la chose advinsist que j'ai songie d'elle, je vouldroye 
 (juo la noyissies, et .si vous ne le faisies jo la noyeroye luoimesme." 
 
176 EVENTS AND EPOCHS IN RELIGIOUS HISTORY. 
 
 that she departed upon this mission. She was to cross 
 France through a country overrun by armed bodies of 
 soldiers of both parties, where there was neither road nor 
 bridge, without female attendant, — a perilous journey of 
 about two hundred and fifty miles ; but this pure-minded 
 girl, full of faith, apprehended no danger and found none. 
 
 She adopted, indeed, as a protection, a soldier's dress, 
 which she did not lay aside till after her capture and 
 imprisonment. 
 
 She perhaps felt justified in this by haviug heard, in the 
 Golden Legend, that her patroness, St. Marguerite, had also 
 assumed this dress in an emergency.^ But the purity of 
 her soul was the best protection ; there was an atmosphere 
 of awe and religion around her. The inhabitants of Vau- 
 couleurs gave her this dress. Baudricourt gave her a sword ; 
 Uncle Lax art and another villager bought her a horse for 
 sixteen francs.^ The people of Vaucouleurs followed her 
 out of the town with good wishes, so much had her piety 
 and sweetness touched all hearts. 
 
 A knight and a squire took cliarge of her escort, and one 
 of her brothers was of the party. They were full of doubts 
 and suspicions, and some of her guard were once half in- 
 clined to throw her into a quarry as a sorceress ; but she, 
 calm and serene, constantly assuring them that they should 
 reach the Dauphin in safety, — desiring to stop at every 
 village to hear mass, no matter how great might be the peril, 
 — gradually impressed them with the same serene confi- 
 dence. " Fear nothing," said she, quite at her ease ; " God 
 clears the way for me. For this I was born." It seemed 
 almost a miracle when they found themselves at their 
 journey's end in eleven days from its commencement. 
 
 1 "Tonsis crinibus in virili liabitu." — Legenda Aurea Sanctorum, 
 quoted by Michelet. 
 
 2 See Wallon, page 42. 
 
JEANNE D'ARC. 177 
 
 And now how is she to persuade the King to trust him- 
 self, his cause, and his armies, to the guidance of a ])Oor 
 peasant girl ? Her faith will remove this mountain also. 
 Wliile the King is hesitating whether he will even admit 
 her to an audience, she is deciding the question by the 
 impression which, as at Vaucouleui'S, she makes on all 
 who approach her. Her confident words, her fervent and 
 unceasing prayers, her frequent communions, her fastings, 
 the holiness of her life, her sweetness, simplicity, modesty, 
 and good sense, created a movement in the public mind 
 which few were able to resist. After deliberatim,^ three 
 days, the King consented to see her. Perhaps if his affairs 
 had been less desperate he would have refused ; but even 
 this straw of hope seemed something to cling to in his 
 drowning condition. Moreover, in overcoming the tirst 
 and lesser difficulties, she continually accumulated more 
 force by which to overcome subsequent and greater ones. 
 Thus the mere fact that she had been able to come to him 
 through such dangers encouraged the King to believe in 
 her. Her hopeful and confident promises of relieving 
 Orleans, uttered on the journey, had been carried by 
 rumor to the besieged in that city, and Dunois, the com- 
 mander, sent to the King to inquire what these rumors 
 meant. Thus an influence seemed to fl^w out from her 
 own deep faith, to create a prestige, an enthusiasm in other 
 minds. 
 
 In order to prove her power, the King, when he admit- 
 ted her to an audience, mingled with his courtiers ; but 
 she went directly to him, and, though he denied that he 
 was the King, she was not confused. " Gentle Dauphin," ^ 
 said she, " my name is Jeanne la Pucelle. 1 come from 
 the King of Heaven to tell you that you are the lawful 
 
 1 She called him Dauphin because he had not yet been crowned at 
 Reims. 
 
 12 
 
178 EVENTS AND EPOCHS IN RELIGIOUS HISTORY. 
 
 heir of France, son of the King, and that I am to deliver 
 Orleans, and then take you to Reims to be crowned King 
 of France." 
 
 It is also reported by several witnesses that she told the 
 King what was known only to himself and God, — that 
 recently in his oratory he had prayed (but without speak- 
 ing aloud) that, if he were the true heir to the crown, he 
 might regain his kingdom, but if not, that he might at 
 least escape in safety to Spain or Scotland. 
 
 Jeanne was at this time, in March, 1429, over seventeen 
 years of age. She was handsome, of a fine figure, tall, and 
 had a sweet and penetrating voice. Many were for at once 
 confiding in her, among them the Duke d'Alen^on and the 
 nobles from Lorraine ; but there were older and more cau- 
 tious statesmen who wished for more proof. So it was 
 decided to send her to Poitiers, where were the Parliament 
 and a university, and to consult the doctors and theologians, 
 as well as the wisest of the civilians there assembled. 
 
 Here was a new trial. The spirit was now to be exam- 
 ined and judged by the letter. She felt that it would be a 
 hard struggle, but she knew that she slunild surmount it. 
 " I know well that I shall have hard work to do at Poitiers, 
 but my Master will aid me. Let us go, then, in God's 
 name." 
 
 It is very beautiful to see how she evaded the diffi- 
 culties, overcame the ol)jections, and quietly put aside the 
 learned cavils of these doctors, by the simplicity and di- 
 rectness of her answers. Tliey first asked her what signs 
 she had to show them to prove her mission. " I have not 
 come to Poitiers to show a sion. Give me some men-at- 
 arms, and lead me to Orleans, and I will then show you 
 signs. The sign I am to give is to raise tlie siege of 
 Orleans." 
 
 " But," objected one, " if God wished to deliver the city 
 
JEANNE D'ARC. 179 
 
 he could do it witliout soldiers." " The soldiers will fight, 
 and God will give them the victory," replied she; and 
 what more can the profoundest thinker say of the con- 
 nection between the use of means and results ? 
 
 Brother Seguin of Limousin, a very sour man {hien 
 aigrc), asked her, in his provincial dialect, in what idiom 
 her angels spoke. '-'In a better idiom than yours," was 
 her answer. " Do you believe in God ? " said he, rather 
 angrily. "I have more faith in God than you have," 
 replied LaPucelle; and the sharp man, who might have 
 troubled her, was silenced. 
 
 But still the doctors went on with their examinations, 
 asking endless questions, and suggesting a multitude of 
 learned difficulties. "Why do you ask me all these 
 things ? " said she ; " I do not know even my A, B, C ; 
 but I have come, by God's command, to raise the siege of 
 Orleans and crown the Kinfr." 
 
 The doctors, having nothing more to say, finally decided 
 in her favor; influenced thereto somewhat by the great 
 reverence she had inspired among the people of Poitiers, 
 as before at Chinon and Vaucouleurs, by her holiness and 
 piety. Jacques Gelu, Archbishop of Embrun, also took the 
 same ground in a treatise composed in answer to questions 
 proposed to him. 
 
 The Devil was believed to have no power over a virgin. 
 As her power, therefore, could not be from beneath, it was 
 logically inferred that it was from above. 
 
 § 4. Bcinff acccqited hi/ the King, she raises the siege of 
 Orleans. — The King then gave her an establishment. A 
 wise and brave counsellor of the King was to attend her 
 as esquire. She had two pages, two heralds, a chaplain, 
 valets, and guards. " It was beautiful to see her," says 
 Guy de Laval in a letter to his mother, "in white armor, 
 sitting on a black horse, with a small axe in her hand." 
 
180 EVENTS AND EPOCHS IN RELIGIOUS HISTORY. 
 
 The Voices had told her to send for an old sword, marked 
 with five crosses, which was behind the altar in the chapel 
 of St. Catherine de Fierbois. The armorer went, and 
 among a heap of old weapons formerly given to the chapel, 
 and which lay near the altar, such a sword was found. 
 
 But what she most loved was her standard, which had 
 been made of white, covered with fleur-de-lis. On one 
 side w^as represented the Savior, seated on the clouds of 
 Heaven, with angels adoring him. On the other side was 
 written Jhesus Maria. 
 
 This standard she always carried in the midst of battle, 
 seldom using her sword ; for she said she did not wish to 
 kill any one, and though she loved her sword, she loved 
 her standard forty times more. 
 
 The men of whom she now took command were almost 
 as savage as wild beasts, but she soon tamed them. She 
 sent all bad women out of the camp. She made these 
 brio-ands confess and leave off swearino\ La Hire, who 
 had feared neither God nor man, no longer ventured to 
 utter an oath ; but Jeanne, seeing his embarrassment Ibr 
 want of his accustomed expletives, allowed him sometimes 
 to swear by his staff. " The devils," says Michelet, " had 
 been changed into little saints." As they marched, in Ihe 
 beautiful spring weather, along the banks of the Loire, from 
 Blois to Orleans, she had an altar erected in the open air, 
 where they all communed. A generous ardor, a pure hope, 
 had made them young again, — had broken through the 
 crust of evil habit and sin, and allowed some ray of love to 
 warm their hearts. 
 
 At night she lay down in her armor. She knew not 
 fear. She wished to go up on the side of the river where 
 the English had built their bastilles, or forts, around the 
 city. Struck by a strange awe, the English did not oppose 
 her entering the place, which she did on the 29th of April; 
 
JEANNE D'ARC. 
 
 181 
 
 and in eijjit dtiys from that time she drove the English 
 from the city, which they had been investing for eight 
 months. 
 
 We cannot dwell at length on tlie detiiils of tliese won- 
 derful days. Enough to say that few things in military 
 history surpass the valor and skill with wdiicli she planned 
 and executed the attacks on these English bastilles, or the 
 ardor which the Ercncli troops, inspired by her, showed in 
 these successive assaults.^ 
 
 CUym 
 
 Plate XVI. — Map of regiou urouud Orleans, for the campaiga of Orleans and the Loire. 
 
 From Wallon. 
 
 1 Dunois testified: "Before she came to Orleans 800 or 1000 of ray- 
 soldiers could not resist 200 Enf^lish. After she came, 400 or 500 of mine 
 could con(|uer any number of English soldiers. I think she was sent by 
 God, and her skill in war was more divine than human. I saw it in many 
 things, —in this among the rest. May 27, early, we attacktd the Boule- 
 vard of the Bridge. Jeanne was wounded by an arrow, which entered 
 half a foot, between her neck and shoulder. She went on fighting as 
 
182 EVENTS AND EPOCHS IN RELIGIOUS HISTORY. 
 
 The English, inflamed by rage, cursed her and insulted 
 her, but always fled before her. She wept to see their 
 dead bodies, slain without confession. When Talbot threat- 
 ened to have her burned, she cried : " Come out : and if 
 you can take me in single combat, you may burn me." She 
 had to encounter the opposition of some of the French 
 captains and leaders also, who wished to act without her 
 or against her advice, and left her out of their counsels. 
 She sprang up suddenly at night, while sleeping with 
 Charlotte, a daughter of the treasurer of the Duke of 
 Orleans, and cried out: " My God! The blood of our people 
 is running on the ground. It was ill done. Why was I 
 not wakened ? Quick, — my arms, my horse ! " She gal- 
 loped off at full speed, and met the French laying. They 
 turned back when they saw her, attacked the bastille 
 again, and carried it. Then she returned to the city; but 
 for refreshment would take only a few slices of bread 
 dipped in wine and water. This sometimes was all her 
 nourishment during the whole day. 
 
 On Ascension Day, Jeanne liad determined to pass the 
 whole day in prayer. The French captains took advantage 
 of her absence to have a little prudent worldly talk about 
 their position. Schiller says, in "Don Carlos," that — 
 
 " Tlie wisdom of the world condemns 
 And scorns the inspiration born of Heaven." 
 
 They probably thought that her inspiration was better to 
 animate than to direct, to impel than to guide, better in 
 
 before. The battle lasted all day. At eight in the evening I thought we 
 ought to retreat. La Pucelle came to me and asked me to wait a little 
 longer. She then went into a trellis of vines, alone ; remained in prayer 
 half an hour ; returned, and seizing her banner in her two hands, went to 
 the ditch. As soon as they saw her the English trembled and were taken 
 with a i»anic. Our soldiers, on the other hand, seemed inspired with new 
 courage, and assailed the fort, meeting no resistance." 
 
JEANNE D'ARC. 183 
 
 tlie field tlian in tlic council. lUit tlieir wisdom was 
 folly by the side of her inspiration. She chose tlie means 
 as wisely as she pursued the end zealously. She saw 
 that they were concealing sometliing from her, and said : 
 " Tell me what you have determined. I can keep this 
 secret and greater ones also." It seems they had deter- 
 mined to wait for reinforcements before attacking the 
 strongest forts of the English ; but Jeanne said : " You 
 have been at your counsel, I at mine. The counsel of my 
 Lord will stand ; yours will come to naught. Let all be 
 ready early to-morrow for the attack. Much blood will 
 flow, and I also shall be wounded." Yet this proud and 
 firm nature was moved to tears by the cruel insults of the 
 English. "The King of Heaven knows," said she, "that 
 tiiey speak falsely." Presently she added that she felt 
 consoled, for she had news from her Master. 
 
 The next morning, thougli the French captains had 
 determined not to yield to her, and refused to open the 
 gates, she compelled them by her immense energy to do 
 so, and hurled an impetuous assault upon the principal 
 fort of the English. It was so strongly intrenched, by 
 the river and a deep fosse, as to be almost impregnable, 
 and was defended by the best English troops and cap- 
 tains. The Duke d'Alenqon, having afterwards examined 
 this bastille, said he would have undertaken to defend it 
 for seven days against any force that could have been 
 brought against it. But all of Jeanne's predictions were 
 to be this day verified. She was wounded, liaving crossed 
 the ditch and been the first to plant a ladder against the 
 walls. They carried her from the walls and took off her 
 armor. Pain and affright overcame her; she began to 
 weep ; but presently her Saints appeared to her, and her 
 heroism returned. 
 
 She pulled tlie arrow out with her own hands, saying 
 
184 EVENTS AND EPOCHS IN KELIGIOUS HISTORY. 
 
 she had rather die than have the charms muttered over 
 the wound which were commonly used by the soldiers. She 
 prayed earnestly to God, and was consoled. Meantime, 
 wearied with the long and useless struggle, the French 
 were everywhere retreating. Noon had long passed, and 
 the English seemed to have won the day. But Jeanne 
 bego'ed the French leaders to return once more to the 
 attack; and seeing her standard near the walls she rode 
 toward it, crying : " If it touches the walls, we shall 
 enter 1 " The moment the French saw her they turned, 
 and poured onward in an overflowing tide against the 
 fort, and began to climb its walls. The English, having 
 believed her killed, were terrified as at the sight of an 
 apparition, and gave way. A shot struck down the bridge 
 over which the English commander was passing into the 
 fort, and he was drowned in the ditch. At the same 
 moment the people of Orleans opened their gates, and 
 attacked the fort in crowds from the otlier side. Instantly 
 it was filled, taken, and its defenders driven out or slain. 
 The bells of Orleans rang all night for joy, and the " Te 
 Deum " was chanted in the churches. 
 
 The next morning, which was Sunday, saw the English 
 in full retreat. Jeanne would not allow them to be pur- 
 sued, but had an altar erected in the plain in full sight of 
 tlieir retreating troops. "For the love of St. Dimanche 
 [Sunday] do not kill tliem to-day. Do not attack them 
 the first," said she. " My Master does not wish us to fight 
 to-day. Let them go, — that is enough." 
 
 § 5. Further campaigns and victories. The King crowned 
 at Reims. — The first part of the prediction being thus 
 accomplished, she wished to fulfil the rest. " Now," said 
 she, "noble Dauphin, let us marcli to Eeims. I shall last 
 only a year, or a little longer ; I must be well employed." 
 The politicians smiled at what they thought a childish 
 
JEANNE D'ARC. 185 
 
 folly in her, thus to insist on the ceremony of coronation. 
 But her folly was wisdom, for tlie great mass of the people, 
 unable to decide questions of succession, thought they 
 ought to accept as tlieir king him wlio was the rightful 
 heir, and who sliould be regularly crowned. Jeanne's as- 
 sertion was like a voice from heaven, as to the first point, 
 in behalf of Charles. Let him be crowned at Reims, and 
 the French nation would then accept liini as their true and 
 legitimate sovereign. Jeanne, a daughter of the people, 
 understood this better than the courtiers ; and, fortunately 
 for Charles, she was able to overrule their selfish or timid 
 counsels, and induce the King to undertake this perilous 
 march of some two hundred miles through the thickest of 
 his enemies. 
 
 By her courage and wisdom, the town of Jargeau, twelve 
 miles from Orleans, was taken by storm. Presently the 
 famous Falstaff (or Falstaffe) arrived with large reinforce- 
 ments for Talbot ; but Jeanne continually encouraged and 
 animated anew the doubting Frenchmen. " If these English 
 were hanging to the clouds we should get them," cried 
 she. "Have you good horses?" she said to the captains. 
 "What! must we fly?" "Oh, no! But you will need 
 them to-day in pursuing the English. The gentle King 
 will have the greatest victory to-day he has ever won." 
 Well did she fulfil the prophecy ; for on that day Crecy 
 and Agincourt were both avenged. Falstafle fled ; Talbot 
 and others were taken prisoners, and two thousand English 
 were slain. ^ 
 
 The maid wept at the sight of this bloodshed, and ex- 
 erted lierself to prevent the French from ill-treating their 
 prisoners. One of them was struck on the head near her ; 
 she sprang from her horse, held his head in lier arms, had 
 
 1 This was at Patay wlu-re, four months b'foro, Falstaffe, with two 
 thousand English, had defeated Dunois and four thousand French. 
 
186 EVENTS AND EPOCHS IN RELIGIOUS HISTORY. 
 
 a priest brought to him, comforted him, and encouraged 
 him to meet death with a stronsj heart. 
 
 The people had faith in Jeanne, but the nobles still 
 doubted and distrusted her. She was always obliged to 
 overcome their resistance. They had no faith in her taking- 
 Orleans, but she took it. They did not dare to go to Eeims, 
 and had offered instead a campaign on the Loire. She ac- 
 cepted it and finished it in a week, taking Jargeau June 12. 
 On the loth she was at Baugency, and took it on the 17th. 
 On the 18th she encountered at Patay both Talbot and Fal- 
 staffe, hitherto victorious, and they were routed by the van- 
 guard of the French.^ The English prestige came to an end 
 that day. One fortified city after another had opened its 
 gates to the French King. The French generals offered no 
 more positive resistance to her commands ; yet envy of her 
 influence filled some jealous hearts, and they sought, pri- 
 vately always, to weaken her power over the King. 
 
 Throughout the march to Eeims, prudence, in the form 
 of the King's counsellors, was always advising one thing, 
 and faith, speaking by Jeanne, another. When they 
 reached Troyes, prudence declared that they could neither 
 take so large and well defended a place, nor would it be 
 safe to leave it in their rear ; they had better return. So 
 thought the Archbishop of Reims. But one old counsellor 
 argued more wisely, and reconciled earthly and heavenly 
 wisdom. He said : " When the King undertook this march 
 he did so not because of his great force or abundance 
 of money, or because it seemed possible, but merely be- 
 cause Jeanne said, ' Go and be crowned at Eeims 1 ' Let 
 us now do as she says. Ask her if we shall attack the 
 city." Jeanne was called. " Shall I be believed ? " said 
 she." "If you say what is reasonable, I will believe you," 
 said the King. " Shall I be believed ? " she repeated. 
 
 1 See map on page 181. 
 
JEANNE D'zVRC. 187 
 
 " Yes ! " replied the king. " Then, noble Dauphin, tell 
 your people to assault the town ; lor, by my God, you shall 
 enter Troyes, by force or love, in two days." "If we could 
 be sure of entering in six," said the Chancellor, " we would 
 wait ; but 1 have my doubts of it." " Six ? " said she ; 
 " You shall be masters of Troyes to-morrow ! " She led 
 them to the assault and the town was taken. 
 
 This was ou the 9th of July. On the. 15th they entered 
 Reims, and the King was crowned on the 17th, with all 
 the usual ceremonies. Jeanne occupied the highest place 
 on this occasion, with her standard in her hand. Then 
 she flung herself on her knees, weeping, and said : " O 
 gentle King, now is accomplished the will of God, that I 
 should raise the siege of Orleans and bring you to be 
 crowned here, to show that you are the right king and 
 that the kingdom belongs to you." 
 
 Touched by the sight of the people, who came singing 
 hymns to welcome the King, she said : " Oh, the good 
 people ! When I die, I should like to be buried here." 
 "When will you die, Jeanne?" said Dunois. "I cannot 
 tell," she replied, — " when God wills. I would that he 
 would let me return to my father and mother, and keep 
 sheep again. They would be so glad to see me. But I 
 have done what the Lord commanded." 
 
 The old chronicle says that thus speaking she lifted up 
 her eyes to Heaven, and all the lords who were in pres- 
 ence never saw so plainly, as in her looks then, that she 
 came from God. 
 
 Wallon says, quoting the words of the French generals, 
 that the f^nglish had become com])letely demoralized ; and 
 this wonderful girl had not only taken, in a week, all the 
 principal English fortresses on the Loire, defeated their 
 best troops and captains in the field, caused all the great 
 cities to open their gates, — but without opposition had 
 
188 EVENTS AND EPOCHS IN EELIGIOUS HISTORY. 
 
 marched to Eeims through a territory which a month 
 before had been wholly in the English power. He adds 
 that she not only inspired an immense enthusiasm, but 
 also displayed an extraordinary mihtary ability. She rode 
 her horse and wielded her lance like an old knight. She 
 seemed to understand by intuition the details of war.^ 
 
 Well might the people believe in her. Her great re- 
 nown had not impaired her modesty. She claimed no 
 merit, saying, " My work is but a ministry," She showed 
 the same constant piety as before, observed daily prayers 
 and Masses, and maintained the same purity of life. Evil 
 thoughts fled from the most impure minds in her presence. 
 Every night she staid with the most virtuous women in 
 the place where she might be. 
 
 She claimed no miraculous power, though doing works 
 almost miraculous. "Nothing like these acts of yours 
 have been told of, even in any book," said one. " My 
 Master has a book," she answered, " which the wisest clerk 
 has never read." When some women of Bourges asked 
 her to touch crosses and chaplets, she laughed and said : 
 " Touch them yourselves ; they will be quite as good." 
 
 Jeanne now felt tliat her work was done, and begged the 
 King to let her return to her home and her sheep. 
 
 Great pity it was, says the old record, to hear her ask, as 
 her reward in the midst of this great triumph, to be per- 
 mitted to go back to her peasant's home and tasks. Two 
 of her brothers, Pierre and Jean, had followed her to Keims. 
 Her father Arc and uncle Laxart met her there. 
 
 It is pleasant to see that the village of Domremy was 
 exempted, by letters-patent of the King, from all taxes, 
 for the sake of the Maid. Charles VII. also gave letters 
 of nobility to the young girl, and to all her family, and by 
 an exception, very intelligible, the female descendants were 
 
 * See fac-simile of a military letter on the opposite page. 
 
JEANNE D'ARC. 189 
 
 Plate XVII. — Letter of Jeanne to the people of Riom, Nov. 9, 1429. 
 
 
 
 /' if <«*.ri*«. 
 
 
 ->! 
 
 Cliers et bons amis, vous savez bien commont la ville de Saint-Pierre le 
 Moustier a este piiuse d'assault; ot a I'aide de Dieu, ay en tendon de faire 
 vuider les autres y)laces (\\\\ sont contraires au ro}'; niais pour ce r^ue grant 
 despt'nse de i>ouldres, trait et autres habilleniens de guerre a este f'aicte 
 devant ladiete ville, et (pie petitenient les seigneurs qui sont en cette ville 
 et moy en sommes pourveuz pour aler inectre le siege devant la Charite, 
 oil nous alons pn'stenient; j»; vous prie sur tant (pie vous aymez le bien et 
 honneur du roy et aussi de tons les autres de par de9{i, que vueillez incon- 
 tinent euvoyer et aider pour ledit siege, de pouldres, salepestre, soutfre, 
 trait, arlx'lestres fortes, et d'autres habilleniens dt* guerre. Et en ce iaictes 
 tant que, par faulte desdictes pouldres et autres liabillemeus de guerre, la 
 chose ne soit longue, et que on ne vous puis.se dire en ce estre nt^gligens 
 ou refusans. Chiers et bons amis, Nostre Sire soit garde de vous. Escript 
 a Molins le neufviesrae jour de novembre. 
 
 Jeuanne. 
 
 [Ecrit sur I'adresse.] 
 A mes chore et bons amis, les 
 gens d't'plise, bourgois et habitans 
 de la ?ilie de Uion. 
 
190 EVENTS AND EPOCHS IN RELIGIOUS HISTORY. 
 
 included. But still more remarkable was the tribute to 
 her virtues paid in after-times. After the defeat of Napo- 
 leon the allied armies, passing on to Paris, came to the 
 village of Domremy. There the German troops, out of 
 respect to the memory of this maiden, forebore to plunder 
 or to do any injury to the inhabitants. 
 
 " How far that little candle throws his beams ! 
 So shines a good deed in a naughty world." 
 
 § 6. She is taken prisoner hy the Burgundians, and sold 
 to the English. — From this culminating point of glory we 
 must now descend into the dark valley of reverses, cruelty, 
 and death. 
 
 She felt that her work was done when the King was 
 crowned. From that moment the way was smooth before 
 him ; cities and towns opened their gates to him every- 
 where. 
 
 The sagacity of her judgment was vindicated by the result, 
 for all France now seemed ready to submit to the King. 
 
 But her own mind, though yet full of energy, became 
 clouded. Though still displaying an heroic and almost 
 superhuman courage, and still winning battles, she on the 
 whole lost ground, both before the enemy and among her 
 own party. Until this time all she undertook succeeded ; 
 now she sometimes failed. The first reverse was under 
 the walls of Paris. At last, perhaps through treachery, 
 she was left outside of the walls of Compiegne which she 
 was defending, and was taken prisoner by the Burgundians. 
 She had foreseen it, she had foretold it, — but with this 
 sad prospect in full view she did not lose her marvellous 
 force of character. At the moment of her great danger 
 under the walls of the city, the bells were rung to summon 
 the soldiers to rescue their heroine. A last and useless 
 homage ! No one came to defend her. The governor of tlie 
 
Jeanne d'ahc. 191 
 
 place has the ignominous rei)utatioii of having commauded 
 the gates to be shut. He was a man of evil habits, for which 
 Jeanne had rebuked liini. He afterwards came to a tragical 
 end, his wife persuading his barber to stianglc him. 
 
 And now what \Nill be done with tiiis young girl, thus 
 taken prisoner ? 
 
 Let those answer who talk of the " Ages of Faith," 
 lament the degeneracy of the present times, and grieve 
 that tlie age of chivalry has gone forever. In our century 
 there was one who, like Jeanne, had led the armies of 
 France against the English. He was their deadliest foe, 
 the invader of every state which his insatiate ambition 
 could covet and his matchless genius could hope to over- 
 come. After pouring a sea of blood over Europe he was 
 at last captured by the nation which had spent millions of 
 money and thousands of lives in order to check his course. 
 He was placed in a distant island, but surrounded Mith 
 friends, books, comforts, luxuries. And yet it was thought 
 by many too severe a punishment. But here a 3'oung girl 
 was taken prisoner of war, whose only crime was to have 
 defended, with matchless heroism, her country and her King. 
 She was a woman, in the age of chivalry, when nothing 
 was talked of but the duty of protecting attlicted dames 
 and damsels, — a virgin, in the age when the worship of 
 the Virgin had almost superseded that of God ; and what 
 did they do ? Uniting savage cruelty with pharisaic hy- 
 pocrisy, they tried her for heresy and sorcery, endeavored 
 to lead her, by falsehoods and deceptions, into self-accusa- 
 tion ; and when all these arts which bishops and noblemen 
 practised against the poor peasant were foiled by her trans- 
 parent truth and holy innocence, they dragged her to the 
 stake and burned her alive, under a flimsy pretext which 
 deceived, and could deceive, no one. How much has the 
 world lost by the change from the Middle Ages ? 
 
192 EVENTS AND EPOCHS IN EELIGIOUS HISTOEY. 
 
 We are obliged to hasten through this shameful history ; 
 yet we must not lose the heavenly traits which shine forth 
 from Jeanne in her numerous examinations. 
 
 The English, greedy for her blood, tried to buy her of 
 the Burgundians, and at last succeeded by the instru- 
 mentality of the Church. The Bishop of Beauvais and 
 the Inquisitor-General demanded her of Jean de Ligny, 
 who finally sold her to them for ten thousand francs. The 
 wife of De Ligny threw herself at his feet and begged him 
 not to dishonor himself, — but he had taken the money. 
 
 § 7. Tr ial, Condemnation, Execution, RehaMlitation. — The 
 mock trial began. After six months spent in different pris- 
 ons, Jeanne was carried to Eouen and placed in an iron 
 cage, with fetters on her limbs. Although to be tried by 
 an ecclesiastical court for heresy and sorcery, she was kept 
 in the English prison and guarded by rude soldiers, who 
 scrupled not to offer her coarse insults. The trial was con- 
 ducted by Pierre Cauchon, Bishop of Beauvais, — a name, 
 like that of Caiaphas, doomed to perpetual infamy as a 
 cruel persecutor who sought, under the forms of justice, 
 pretexts for satisfying the malice of vindictive foes by the 
 murder of an innocent prisoner. The whole judicial pro- 
 cess, says Barante, was a succession of falsehoods, of traps 
 laid for the unsuspecting victim, — constant violation of 
 justice and the most established rights, under a hypo- 
 critical appearance of following the customary rules. They 
 sent into her prison a priest, who pretended to be her 
 secret friend, and then they placed notaries behind the 
 walls to take down what she might say to him. Even 
 the notaries were ashamed of such a task, and refused 
 to do it. 
 
 Called before an assembly of doctors and divines, mostly 
 hostile, this poor girl evinced a courage as great as she 
 had ever shown in battle. They allowed her no counsel; 
 
JEANNE D'ARC. 193 
 
 but her honesty and good sense were the best helps, and 
 enabled her to escape the snares in which they souglit to 
 entrap her. Their threats and violence produced in her 
 neither anger nor fear. The readiness and beauty of her 
 answers often astonished the assembly. They asked her 
 if she knew that she was " in the grace of God." "It is a 
 great thing," said she, " to answer such a question." " Yes, 
 Jeanne," interrupted one of the assessors, Jean Tahi, "it is 
 a great question, and you are not bound to answer it." 
 ** You had better be silent," cried the Bishop to him. " If 
 I am not," slie replied, " may God make me so ; if I am, 
 may God keep me so. But if I were not in the grace of 
 God," she added, " I should not have known what to do." 
 The manuscript says : " They were much astonished, and 
 for that time finished the examination." ^ 
 
 They asked her another time about her standard. " I 
 carried it instead of a lance," she answered, " so as not to 
 kill any one. I have never killed any one." They asked 
 her what virtue she supposed tliere was in the standard, 
 wishing to accuse her of magic. " I said to it, * Go boldly 
 among the English,' and then I followed it myself." They 
 asked her why she brought it to the altar at Ileims ? " It 
 had been where tliere was danger; it was riiiht tliat it 
 should be where there was honor." "What did tlie people 
 mean in kissing your hands, feet, and garments ? " — " The 
 poor people came gladly to me because I did them no 
 wrong. I supported and helped them, as I had the 
 power." Thus simple, unsuspecting truth was too much 
 for cunning. 
 
 Sometimes she spoke with great sublimity. " My 
 Voices, to-day, have told me to answer you very boldly;" 
 and she followed their advice to the letter. 81ie rebuked 
 the Bishop for the part he was taking in tlie trial, and 
 
 * "Fuerunt multum stupefacti, et ilia hoia diiiiisemnt." 
 
 13 
 
194 EVENTS AND EPOCHS IN RELIGIOUS HISTORY. 
 
 warned him of the terrible responsibility he would en- 
 counter. " Bethink you what you do, for truly I am seilt 
 of God. You put yourself in great danger. Yes, I am 
 come from God. I have nothing to do here. Send me 
 back to God from whom I came." They tried to make her 
 say that the Voices had inspired her with unchristian 
 feeliners. 
 
 '&'- 
 
 "Were the inhabitants of Domremy Burgundians *? " — 
 " There was only one Burgundian in the village ; and I could 
 have wished that his head were cut off, provided it was the 
 will of God." 
 
 " Did the Voices tell you you ought to hate the Burgun- 
 diansV — "I did not love them so well after I found that the 
 Voices were for the King of France." 
 
 "Did you have a great desire to injure the Burgundians'?" — 
 " I had a great desire and wish that the King should have his 
 kingdom again,"' 
 
 " Do you think j^ou did well in leaving home without the 
 consent of your father and mother?" — "They have forgiven 
 me." 
 
 "Do you think, then, that you did not sin in acting soV — 
 " If God commanded me, ought I uot to have done it 1 Though 
 I had a hundred fathers and mothers, I would have left them 
 if God had ordered it." 
 
 There is a certain kind of religion which can believe in 
 the Devil and evil spirits much more readily than in the 
 inspiration of God and in good angels. Thus, though 
 these judges thought it incredible that Jeanne should have 
 seen Michael and the saints, they deemed it quite probable 
 that she should have had intercourse with fairies and evil 
 spirits. They tried to make her say that she had talked 
 with fairies under the May-tree ; but she replied that 
 others had declared they had seen them there, but for 
 herself she had never seen any. 
 
JEANNE D'ARC. 105 
 
 Jeanne admitted that many people who had the fever 
 visited the May-tree and (hank of the neighboring foun- 
 tain, but she did not know whetlier they were cured or 
 not. She had heard some old people say they saw fairies 
 under the tree, but whether it was true she did not 
 know. 
 
 "Did you not tell the soldiers that you would turn 
 aside the English arrows?" — "I only told them not to 
 be afraid ; but many were wounded at my side, and I was 
 wounded myself." They asked her if she had ever been 
 where she saw the En<dish killed. " Who of us has not 
 seen war ? liut of such sad things let us speak softly and 
 with a low voice." An English nobleman present was 
 touched by the reply, and said : " I would she ^vere an 
 Englishwoman." 
 
 "Was it well done to attack Paris on our Lady's Dayl" — 
 " It is well to keep the festivals of our Lady ; it would be well 
 to keep them every day." 
 
 " Do your saints hate the English V — " They love whatever 
 God loves, and hate what he hates." 
 
 " Does God hate the English r' — " As for God's love or hate 
 for the souls of the English, I know nothing ; but I know that 
 he will cause them all to be driven from France, except those 
 who die here." 
 
 "Jeanne, do you know by revelation whether you will 
 escape 1 " — " This has nothing to do with your trial. Do you 
 wish me to accuse myself?" 
 
 " But have the Voices told you nothing about it ? " — " This 
 does not concern the trial. I leave the matter in the Lord's 
 hands." 
 
 After all their examinations, they had made out no case 
 against her as regards sorcery. TJiai they were obliged to 
 give up. The only points of any weight were her wearing 
 a man's dre.^s, and refusing to submit to the decisions of 
 
196 EVENTS AND EPOCHS IN RELIGIOUS HISTORY. 
 
 the Church. To wear a man's dress was contrary to a text 
 in Deuteronomy, the object of which was, no doubt, to 
 promote purity of manners ; but her object in wearing this 
 dress was the same. Did they not see that in committing 
 her, a poor chained girl, to be guarded by rude soldiers, 
 they were committing a much greater impropriety ? 
 
 But the real point of the accusation consisted in the con- 
 flict between the authority of God, speaking in her heart, 
 and that of the visible Church. 
 
 They asked her if she would submit to the decision of 
 the Church as to whether her Voices had told the truth 
 or not, and let the Church decide on all her words and 
 actions. To this she answered : " I love the Church, and 
 would support it with all my power ; but as to my works, 
 I must leave them to the judgment of God who sent 
 me." 
 
 The question being repeated, she replied, with the an- 
 swer always suggested to a true soul which must believe 
 there can be no discord or variance between truth and 
 truth : " Our Lord and the Church are all one." Then 
 they contrived for her a distinction, in order to induce her 
 to reject the authority of the visible Church. 
 
 They told her there was a distinction between the Church 
 Triumphant above, composed of God and the saints, and the 
 Church Militant below, and asked her to which she sub- 
 mitted. Of course she answered : " To the Church Tri- 
 umphant." — " And do you refuse to submit to the Church 
 Militant ?" — " T will answer no more to-day." 
 
 But there were some honest men among the counsellors, 
 who could not bear this. Three of them had the boldness 
 to visit her in her prison, and to tell her that the true 
 Church Militant did not consist of her enemies but of the 
 Pope and the General Councils, and that she might thus 
 take an appeal from her prejudiced judges to the Council 
 
JEANNE D'ARC. 197 
 
 of Basle, tlieii aljout to be convened, and to the Tope. One 
 of them had even the courage to advise her in public, before 
 the tribunal, to submit to the Council of Basle. " What is 
 a General Council ? " said she. " It is," said Brother Isam- 
 bert, " a congregation of the Universal Church, and is com- 
 posed of your friends as well as of the other party." " Oli ! 
 in that case, I submit," said she. "Be silent!" cried the 
 r)ishop, to Isambert, and forbade the notary from writing 
 down her answer. " Alas ! " said the poor child, " you 
 write what is against me, but not what is for me." 
 
 The question and answer which brought out the absolute 
 opposition between what the Roman Church required and 
 what Jeanne could do, is from the record of March 31. 
 The question put to her was this : — 
 
 " Will you refer yourself to the judgment of the Church on 
 this earth, for all yon have said and done, good or bad 1 Espe- 
 cially, will you submit to the decision of the Church concerning 
 all the charges made against you for different offences and 
 crimes, and in regard to the whole of the present Process T' 
 
 She replied : " As to all that is required, I refer myself to the 
 judgment of the Church Militant, provided it commands nothing 
 wiiich I am unable to do ; and I consider it impossible to declare 
 that my Voices and Revelations have not come from God. Noth- 
 ing in the world will make me declare this. Whatever God causes 
 me to do, whatever he commands or shall command, — that I 
 must not fail to do, for any man alive. It is impossible for me 
 to take back this. In case the Church wishes me to do any- 
 thing contrary to the commands I have received from God, I 
 never can consent for anything in the world." 
 
 Then it was asked : " If the Church Militant declares your 
 Revelations to be illusions, or to be diabolical, will you submit 
 to the Church in this matter 1" 
 
 She answered : " I will submit to God, whose commandments 
 I shall always obey. I know that the matters spoken of in this 
 Process have been done bv the order of God. Whenever I 
 
198 EVENTS AND EPOCHS IN RELIGIOUS HISTORY. 
 
 affirm in this Process that I have acted by God's order, I can 
 never deny it. If the Church commands the contrary, I shall 
 submit to no one in the world, but only to God, whose com- 
 mands I shall always obey." 
 
 " Ought you not to submit to the Church of God on earth, — 
 that is, to the Pope (our Lord), to the cardinals, archbishops, 
 bishops, and other prelates of the Church 1 " — " Yes ; I do 
 submit, — provided that God is obeyed first." 
 
 Jeanne d'Arc was thus in the same position before this 
 tribunal that Luther was before the Diet of Worms. Her 
 language and his were identical, except that he spoke of 
 the Word of God in Scripture, where she spoke of the 
 Voice of God in her soul. Both wished to obey the 
 Church ; neither wished to be heretic or schismatic ; but 
 to both there was something higher than the Church. 
 This was God, speaking to the soul or speaking in the 
 Scripture. " No man can serve two masters," says Jesus. 
 We may indeed serve two masters so long as their com- 
 mands do not differ ; but when the time comes that they 
 command different things, we must then choose wdiich to 
 obey. The time came to Jeanne when the Church said : 
 " Deny the Voice of God in your heart." The time came 
 to Luther when the Church said : "Deny the Word of God 
 ir the Bible." Then both became virtually Protestants, 
 and obeyed the higher law as against the lower one. 
 The girl of Domremy was a Protestant, — before the Eef- 
 ormation. 
 
 After the examinations were concluded, the Bishop 
 selected twelve articles from what he chose to consider 
 the answers of Jeanne, and sent them to the principal doc- 
 tors and ecclesiastical tribunals for their opinions. They 
 were so drawn up as to make it impossible for any reply 
 to be given but one which should be condemnatory. The 
 chief point, of course, was her refusal to submit to the tri- 
 
JEANNE D'ARC. 109 
 
 bimal of tlie Church if it should contradict the Voice of 
 God in her own soul. She was therelnie really condemned 
 as a Protestant. They also condemned her fur weariiiL,^ 
 men's clothes, and for believing in revelations which prob- 
 ably came from evil spirits. 
 
 The English were now impatient that she should be 
 Inirned. About this time she fell sick, and the great Earl 
 of Warwick was mucli alarmed lest slie should die a 
 natural death. 
 
 " You must cure her," said he. " The King has bought 
 her. She must be burned ! You must not let her die ! " 
 This Earl of Warwick was exactly the brave and gallant 
 knight of that age, the perfect gentleman, full of all chiv- 
 alrous ideas. He made a pilgrimage to the Holy Land, 
 not missing a tournament by the way. He gave a tour- 
 nament himself at the gates of Calais, challenging the 
 whole chivalry of France. And yet he manifested this 
 rancor against a woman, who had so deeply wounded 
 English pride. 
 
 That a girl had so frightened them, driven them half the 
 length of France, taken them in their fortresses, and con- 
 quered them in the field, — this was intolerable. Nothing 
 but burning her alive could satisfy the vengeance of Eng- 
 lish pride thus severely mortified. ^ 
 
 This was in Passion Week and they refused her the 
 sacraments. The object of tlie Bishop was to make her 
 submit to the Church, and confess that her visions were 
 deceptive. After that he did not care what became of her. 
 He therefore tried all means to induce her to submit ; 
 threatening her with torture and fire if she refused ; prom- 
 ising her the mercy and protection of the Church if slie 
 submitted. But day after day the heroine stood firm. 
 
 1 "In everything else the English can be noble and generous," says 
 Michelet ; "not when their national pride is wounded." 
 
200 EVENTS AND EPOCHS IN RELIGIOUS HISTORY. 
 
 Deprived of the outward consolations of religion, she fed 
 on hidden manna. 
 
 "' For uij faith,'" said she, " I submit to the Church below ; for 
 my acts, I will submit only to the Church of Heaven. I would 
 rather die than revoke what 1 have done by the Lord's com- 
 mands." 
 
 " But you cannot hear Mass on Good Friday, except you 
 submit." — " Our Lord can let me hear it without you." 
 
 '•' Will you submit to the Church Militant T' — " Provided it 
 does not command what is impossible." 
 
 " Do you not think you ought to obey the Pope and the 
 bishops, and the Universal Church T' — "Yes, our Lord being 
 first obeyed." 
 
 " Do your Voices forbid you to submit to the Church Mili- 
 tant ] " — " They do not, our Lord being obeyed first." 
 
 Finally, on May 24, 1431, they prepared a public dis- 
 play. Two scaffolds wttc erected. The cardinals, bishops, 
 and doctors seated on one, and Jeanne on the other, with 
 the executioner and priests. The English, assembled in 
 crowds, believed that she was to be burned ; but the object 
 of the Bishop was to get a public abjuration from her. 
 She long refused to sign anything, but being threatened 
 with immediate death by burning if she refused, and being 
 promised pardon and protection if she consented, and being, 
 moreover, exhausted by the long discussions and argu- 
 ments, she finally agreed to sign a short form of abjura- 
 tion, in which she submitted to the Church, and confessed 
 that her Voices might have deceived her.^ Then they sub- 
 
 1 Precisely what she abjured cannot be known. It is certain that the 
 abjuration which she signed was very short. She was exhausted by her 
 long struggle, and by the prayers, threats, and instructions. She said at 
 last: *' I submit to the Church." Massieu read to her the form of abjura- 
 tion, which he afterwards declared to contain not more tlian eight lines. 
 Pierre Miget said it was about the length of a Pater Noster. The greffier 
 Taquel, who stood close to hei-, said there were about six lines, in large 
 
JEANNE D'ARC. 
 
 201 
 
 stituted another and much longer form, previously pre- 
 pared. The English were furious, and began to throw 
 stones at the Bishop. They shouted: "You have not 
 
 Plate XVIII. — Abbey of St. Ouen. 
 
 earned the King's money ; you are going to let her escape." 
 Warwick said, " Things go badly if she escapes." " Never 
 mind," said the holy man ; " we will soon have her again." 
 
 letters; and Massieu positively declared that the abjuration inserted in 
 the Process, in which she confesses herself to be an impostor and blas- 
 pliemcr, denying God and the sacramonts, was 7iol tliat which Jeanne 
 signed, but one substituted afterwards. 
 
 This abjuration took place in the cemetery of St. Ouen, near the beau- 
 tiful church of that name. Our illustration (Plate XV III.), which is a little 
 imperfect, shows the place where the two scafTi)lds were erected, in the 
 left-hand corner, near the church. She signed the abjuration on this spot, 
 May 24, 1431, and retracted it four days after. 
 
202 EVENTS AND EPOCHS IN RELIGIOUS HISTORY. 
 
 They pronounced her pardon, which was a sentence of per- 
 petual imprisonment ; and then, instead of committing 
 her to the guardianship of the Church, sent her back to 
 the English prisons. 
 
 Having thus made a partial submission to the Church, 
 she resumed her female dress in obedience to its com- 
 mands. But it had been arranged that she should not 
 so escape. Having been received by the Church to peni- 
 tence, and absolved from the excommunication, she had 
 expected to be set at liberty. Erard, the preacher, who 
 had obtained her abjuration, had promised that she should 
 be delivered from prison. As she had been condemned 
 to perpetual imprisonment as a salutary penance " on 
 the bread of grief and water of anguish," she had a 
 right to demand that confinement to be in the prisons of 
 the Church. Several suggested this to the Bishop, and 
 Jeanne said : " Men of the Church, carry me to your 
 prison, so that I shall not be any more in the hands of the 
 English ! " But such was not the Bishop's intention. He 
 said : " Take her back to the place where you found her," — 
 thus showing himself to be only an accomplice of the Eng- 
 lish. Insults were offered her in her cell. She was chained 
 as before. Her woman's dress was said by some witnesses 
 to have been taken away during her sleep. At all events, 
 they must purposely have left the man's dress where she 
 could get it ; and this was no doubt done to tempt her to 
 put it on again. " Gentlemen," said she, " you know I am 
 forbidden to wear that." But at last, either having no 
 other, or feeling more secure in the soldier's garb, she put 
 it on. Then they cried out : " She is taken." The judges 
 came ; they would not listen to her complaints and excuses. 
 " Put me among women," said she, " and I will wear a 
 woman's dress." They proceeded to examine her as fol- 
 lows : " Why have you again worn your man's dress ? " — 
 
JEANNE D'AUC. 203 
 
 " Because it is more proper to wear a iiiau's dress than a 
 woman's when I am among men." She added that she 
 had a right tu wear it again, since tliey had nut kept tlieir 
 promises to let her go to Mass and to take ofV the irons 
 from her hnibs. 
 
 " You abjured your errors, and promised not to wear the 
 man's dress again." — "I had rather die than be thus chained; 
 but if you will take ofl' the irons and let me go to Mass, put 
 me in a good prison and let me have a woman with me, I 
 will be good and do what the Church commands." 
 
 Then the Judge, wishing to find some basis for the charge 
 of " relapse," asked her if she had heard her Voices again, 
 since Thursday, the day of abjuration. Without attempt- 
 ing to escape the snare, she promptly answered : " Yes." — 
 '* And what did they say to you ? " She answered, — 
 and here, on the margin of tlie original manuscript (See 
 Plate XIX.) are written the words Eesponsio mortifera, 
 " The answer which caused her death : " — " God has taught 
 me, by St. Catherine and St. Margaret, that I have com- 
 mitted a sad treachery in abjuring to save my life ; that 
 I damned myself to save my life." She added that her 
 Voices had told her what to do that day, to answer the 
 preacher boldly from the scaffold, for he was a fake 
 preacher. She said : "If I should admit that God did not 
 send me I should damn myself. It is true that God sent 
 me. My Voices have told me that I did very wrong in 
 confessing that what I have done was not well done." 
 
 The clerk who wrote down her answers adds that she 
 said that she put on the man's dress to protect her mod- 
 esty. The judges then decided that she should be deliv- 
 ered over to the secular arm, to die. 
 
 When this cruel death by fire w^as announced to her, her 
 woman's nature gave way. She began t(j weep bitterly 
 and tear her hair. "Alas! shall my body be burned, which 
 
204 EVENTS AND EPOCHS IN RELIGIOUS HISTORY. 
 
 Plate XIX. — Last answer of Jeanne. 
 
 
 ..JiiMH*' ^fiC^iO- l^ jpA<7X/t7tH ^M*Amr ^SU»^ BcSu^ 
 
 lO 
 
 Last answer of Jeanne, in which she recalls her abjuration, and so 
 becomes a "relapsed heretic." The words are these: Interrogata qnid 
 sibi dixerunt; respondit quod Deus raandavit sibi, per sanctas, Katherinam 
 et Margaretam, magnam pietatem illius grandis proditionis in quam ipsa 
 Johanna consenserat, faciendo abjurationem et revocationem pro salvando 
 suani vitam; et quod ipsa se damnaverat pro salvando vitam suam. Item 
 dixit quod, ante diem jovis, voces suie sibi dixenint illud quod ipso illo die 
 faceret et quod protuni ipsa fecit. Dixit ultro quod voces suae sibi dixe- 
 runt, quando erat in scafaldo sen ambone, coram populo, quod audacter 
 responderet illi pra^dictatori, qui tunc prredicabat, dicebatque eadem Jo- 
 hanna quod erat ille falsus preedicator et quod plura dixerat earn fecisse 
 quae ipsa non fecerat. Item dixit quod, si ipsa diceret quod Dens non 
 mississet eam, ipsa damnaret se, et quod veraciter Deus ipsam misit. 
 
 Affirm o ut supra. 
 
 BOSEGUILLAUME. 
 
JEANNE D'ARC. 205 
 
 I have preserved pure and uncorrupt ? I had rather be 
 beheaded, seven times over, than be burned." 
 
 " O Itouen, Kouen, must I die here ? " said she on her 
 way to execution. It was at nine in the morning, May 30, 
 1431, that slie set out for the scaffold, after having taken 
 the communion, by permission of tlie liishop. Remorse, 
 pity, grief, were taking possession of men's minds, more 
 and more, on one side, — a corresponding rage increasing 
 on the other. Tliose wlio sliowed the least sympathy for 
 her fate were in innninent peril from the English ; never- 
 theless, they continued to show it. 
 
 Let us mention the names of three friends who staid 
 with her to the last, — Brother L'Advenu, Brother Isam- 
 bert, and one of tlie secretaries, Massieu. All three had 
 been threatened by the English for having given her their 
 advice, and manifested pity for her during the trial. As 
 she passed on, her sweet face yet wet with a woman's 
 tears, the people aloni^ tlie streets wept likewise. The 
 priest who had falsely ])retended to be her friend in the 
 prison in order to betray her confidence, repenting, burst 
 through the guards, flung himself down before her, accus- 
 ing himself aloud of his treachery, and imploring her par- 
 don and God's. If Warwick had not interfered, he would 
 have been instantly killed. 
 
 They preached a sermon as the introduction of this 
 fearful ceremony. At its close, she wept and besought 
 forgiveness of all, forgiving their wrongs again.st herself 
 and begging them to pray for her. Ea'cu the hard-hearted 
 Bishop, even the cruel English, were touched and could 
 not refrain from tears ; but not the less did tlie Bishop 
 proceed to pronounce the sentence : " We cut you off from 
 the Church as a relapsed penitent, as a rotten member ; 
 we give you over to the secular power, entreating it to 
 moderate its sentence and spare you the pain of death and 
 
206 EVENTS AND EPOCHS IN RELIGIOUS HISTORY. 
 
 mutilation of limb." ^ Kissing the cross which an English 
 soldier had given her, she ascended the wooden pile raised 
 on a foundation of plaster, and, looking on the city and 
 silent multitude beneath her, cried again : " Eouen, 
 Eouen ! I fear me much, thou wilt have to suffer for my 
 death." The executioner applied the fire. She saw it and 
 shrieked. The priest who stood by her did not pay atten- 
 tion to the flames. Then, forirettiuo; herself, she be""g:ed 
 him to go down. 
 
 While the flames began to roll up around her, she first 
 cried out for water ; then she cried on God, and finally said, 
 " My Voices have not deceived me." In the midst of the 
 flames she saw that the safety and deliverance they had 
 promised, were not deliverance from death, but that of her 
 soul. God no doubt then, as in a thousand instances, 
 gave her, at the moment of death, an inward light and 
 strength which " quenched the violence of the fire." Her 
 last words were, " Jesus ! — Jesus ! " 
 
 All this is testified by the priest who had just de- 
 scended from tlie pile. " She finished her prayer in 
 heaven," says Wallon. Even the soldiers were melted. 
 These rude men-at-arms cried : " We are lost ; we have 
 burned a saint. Would God, my soul were where hers is 
 now ! " Some tried to laugh. One man had sworn he 
 would throw a fagot on the pile. As he approached, her 
 voice, crying on Jesus, reached his ear. He was taken ill, 
 almost fainted, and was carried to a neighboring tavern. 
 " I saw a dove escape from her mouth," said he. The 
 executioner went in utter dismay to Brother Isambert to 
 confess. He could not believe that God would forgive 
 him. 
 
 In 1450 measures were taken for revising this Process. 
 
 1 This conventional hypocrisy was uttered in full view of the stake 
 where she was to be immediately bui'ned. 
 
JEANNE D'ARC. 207 
 
 111 1456 a Court of Revision appointed by Pope Calixtus 
 III. pronounced the charges against Jeanne to be utterly 
 false. 
 
 And now, in considering her life, and asking for the 
 secret of her wonderful j^erfurmances, we see that the source 
 of her power was, that she could inspire others, by her 
 words and her spirit, with a confidence in her mission, and 
 that she could do this because her own faith was so strong. 
 Her faith was strong because it had grown up by silent 
 meditation and prayer, in a mind, pure, single, devout. 
 Eminently and remarkably does she belong to that heroic 
 band " who tlu'ough faith subdued kingdoms, wrought 
 righteousness, obtained promises, stopped the mouth of 
 lions, quenched the violence of fire, out of weakness were 
 made strong, waxed valiant in fight, turned to flight the 
 armies of the aliens." Literally she fulfilled almost every 
 clause of this description, and all by the strength and 
 dei)th of her own conviction. 
 
 Thus far all is plain. But we must also ask, — was this 
 faith purely subjectiv^e ? Had it no outward object ? In 
 other words, were her visions realities, or were they the 
 creations of her own mind ? On the one hand we feel a 
 reluctance to admit the reality of such appearances, which 
 " live no longer in the faith of reason." They seem, too, 
 both in themselves and in what they tell her to do, to 
 have been created naturally b}^ the thoughts and the belief 
 already in her mind. 
 
 On the other hand, it is difficult to explain a power 
 which produced such immense results as coming from 
 mere imagination. Could so strong a faith rest on a de- 
 lusion ? Could she continue for so many years firm in the 
 belief that she had daily intercourse with these angels, if 
 there was no foundation for it whatever ? 
 
 This question must for the present remain a problem, — 
 
208 EVENTS AND EPOCHS IN RELIGIOUS HISTORY. 
 
 perhaps forever. The squire of La Pucelle, Daulon, hav- 
 ing asked to see the angels and saints who appeared to her, 
 she told him that he was " not good enoiigh to see them." 
 Neither are we good enough. These visions are unintelli- 
 gible to us, and constitute a secret between this girl and 
 her God. 
 
 Within a few years many attempts have been made by 
 leading French ecclesiastics to procure the canonization 
 of the Maid of Orleans by the Pope. Pio Nono, it is 
 thought, was not averse to this. Bishop Dupanloup ex- 
 erted himself strongly in the same direction. Let us hope, 
 however, it will not be done. Nothing can make her more 
 saintly than she is already. To surround her with a cloud 
 of panegyric and legendary miracles, will only veil from 
 our eyes the simple beauty and grandeur of her character. 
 Considering also that it was a Church court which sent 
 her to the stake, it would remind us too much of the say- 
 ing of Jesus concerning those who build the tombs of the 
 prophets and garnish the sepulchres of the righteous, only 
 bearing witness thereby to the fact that they are the chil- 
 dren of those who slew the prophets. 
 
 There have been several monographs published on the 
 portraits and statues of the Maid of Orleans. One of 
 these, printed only last year (by M. Bouteiller and M. De 
 Breaux), says there are two ancient statues of the heroine, 
 — one in the Museum of Cluny, the other at Domremy. 
 That in the Museum of Cluny is of wood, and probably 
 copied from one which was in the Cathedral of Toul in 
 1610. But there is no reason to believe that any authentic 
 portrait of the Maid now exists. Nor are the attempts 
 of sculptors and painters to reproduce her face very suc- 
 cessful. They either want depth of expression, or they 
 show us a look of discouragement and sadness, instead of 
 the fire and power and hope which must have come from 
 
JEANNE D'AKC. 209 
 
 her inward inspiration. Such a foiluru looking woman as 
 appears in some of these portraits could never have accom- 
 plished the deliverance of Fmnce. There was in her ex- 
 pression seriousness, no doubt, but only a countenance 
 radiant with hope could have produced and sustained such 
 hope in others. 
 
 Dr. Ilirzel in a recent study on the Maid of Orleans 
 ("Johanna d'Arc," by Dr. Hirzel ; Berlin, 1877), has col- 
 lected the scattered testimonies to her personal appearance 
 and united them in this portrait, in which, however, he 
 emi)hasizes too strongly this supposed melanclioly. 
 
 " Jeanne had a well proportioned figure, slender but not too 
 thin, above the usual height. She was capable of enduring 
 great fatigue, and displayed much muscular strength. Her 
 face was fresh and oval ; her forehead neither low nor high ; 
 her large eyes, of a clear brown, had an expression of melan- 
 choly which gave them an extraordinary charm ; her eyebrows 
 slightly arched ; her nose straight and well modelled ; her 
 mouth small; her lips red and not very large. Her chin was 
 also small and a little pointed ; her complexion clear white ; 
 her hair dark chestnut, flowing in masses over her very white 
 neck. Her ft\ce expressed candor, innocence, and a slight 
 sadness; her voice was sweet and feminine; her language dig- 
 nified, conveying noble sentiments and much sagacity. In 
 common life she spoke little, but became eloquent when speak- 
 ing of her mission. Although placed above the weakness of 
 her sex by her immense energy of character, her sensibility 
 and tendency to weep were not impaired by all her experiences 
 in war." 
 
 It has repeatedly happened that after the death of any 
 person who has deeply moved the popular mind, a belief 
 has prevailed that he was still alive, and would reappear. 
 This belief has often induced impostors to come forward, 
 pretending to be that very person. So it was in the case 
 
 u 
 
210 EVENTS AND EPOCHS IN RELIGIOUS HISTORY. 
 
 of Jeanne d'Arc. A false Jeanne d'Arc appeared in 
 1452, twenty-one years after her execution, claiming 
 to be the real Maid of Orleans. She wore a man's dress, 
 went about amusing herself and feasting, and imposed 
 on many. An account of this is given in Octave Dela- 
 pierre's work on " Historic Difficulties ; " and is well 
 discussed by Mr. John Fiske in bis book called " The 
 Unseen World." 
 
 I think, however, that both these writers treat the 
 question too seriously. It is a manifest impossibility 
 that Jeanne d'Arc, having fallen into the hands of the 
 English by the sentence of the court, could ever have es- 
 caped. She was guarded by English soldiers. The English 
 thirsted for her blood. Warwick, who was determined 
 that she should be burned, was present during all the last 
 moments of her life. Who would have dared to substitute 
 any one else in her place and what motive could they have 
 for doing so ? Some one certainly w^as burned. If not 
 Jeanne, who was it ? Did any one consent to be a martyr 
 in order to save her ? The whole story bristles with 
 impossibilities. 
 
 But there was another young girl, inspired by her ex- 
 ample, who would willingly have imitated her. A grand- 
 niece of Jeanne d'Arc, daughter of Claude de Lys, an 
 amiable young girl, was the living picture of her aunt. 
 Brought up in the house, surrounded by memories of 
 her, she thought herself destined to continue her career. 
 Dressed in men's clothes, she exercised herself in the use 
 of arms and became a perfect equestrian. She was ready 
 to show, if an occasion arose, that the blood of Jeanne was 
 not extinct; but the occasion never came. She married 
 and lived a quiet life. 
 
 With one remark more we will close this story. Here, 
 in Jeanne, we see with what grace and virgin purity a 
 
JEANNE D'AKC. 211 
 
 woman can occupy any sphere which appears to her to 
 be that of duty. 
 
 The French Chronicles are continually noticing with 
 wonder how, amidst tlie violence of war and the rudeness 
 of her enemies, she preserved the virtues of a woman, even 
 to the clear and keen perceptions which characterize the 
 feminine intellect. ^ 
 
 To no one better could Wordsworth's fine lines be ap- 
 plied than to her : — 
 
 " I saw her upon nearer view 
 A spirit, yet a woman too; 
 Her bou.sehokl motions light and free. 
 And step.s of virgin liberty; 
 A countenance in which did meet 
 Sweet records, promises as sweet; 
 A perfect woman, nohly planned, 
 To warn, to comfort, and command, — 
 And yet a spirit still, and bright 
 With something of an angel light." 
 
 Though the most brilliant French authors have embalmed 
 the memory of the Maid of Orleans in verse and prose, 
 though one of Schiller's noble dramas is devoted to her 
 honor, — the most touching tribute to her memory is by 
 an American poet, Maria Lowell 
 
 PLACE DE LA PUCELLE. 
 
 Here dwells the legend, fed hy time and chance, — 
 
 Fresh as the morning, though in centuries old; 
 The whitest lily on the shield of France, 
 With heart of virj^in gold. 
 
 ' "It was fit," says Michelet, "that tho .savicr of France should be a 
 woman. France herself is a woman. She has the fickleness of the sex, 
 but also its amiable ^'entleness, its facile and thai mi ng pity, and the ex- 
 cellence of its first impulses." 
 
212 EVENTS AND EPOCHS IN RELIGIOUS HISTORY. 
 
 Along this square she moved, sweet Joan of Arc, — 
 
 With face more pallid than a day-lit star 
 Half-seen, half-doubted; while before her, dark 
 Stretched the array of war. 
 
 Swift curled the battle-smoke of lying breath 
 
 From off her path, as if a wijid had blown, — 
 Showing no faithless king, but righteous death 
 On the low wooden throne. 
 
 He would reward her. She, who meekly wore 
 
 Alike the gilded mail and peasant gown, 
 As meekly now received one honor more — 
 The formless, fiery crown. 
 
 A white dove trembled up the heated air, 
 
 And in the opening zenith fomid its goal ; 
 Soft as a downward feather dropped a prayer 
 For each repentant soul. 
 
 Certainly, if we wished to express the whole of this 
 story in one line, it could not be better done than when 
 we call her — 
 
 " The whitest hly on the shield of France." 
 
SAVONAKUL.V AND THE KENAISS.VNCE. 213 
 
 VII. 
 SAVOXAEOLA AND THE RENAISSANCE. 
 
 § 1. Changes in Europe from the time of Jeanne d'Arc 
 to that of Savonarola. The Renaissance. — Girolamo (or 
 Jerome) Savonarola, of whose life and times we are next to 
 speak, illu.strated the close of that century, the commence- 
 ment of which was illuminated by Jeanne d'Arc. The Ro- 
 man Church burned her in Rouen, May 30, 1431 ; and the 
 Commissioners of the Pope caused him to be strangled and 
 burnt May 23, 1498, sixty-seven years after. Both were 
 martyrs to the Higher Law, because they would obey God 
 rather than man ; because when the Church ordered them 
 to say one thing, and the voice of God's Truth in their 
 souls commanded them to say another, they refused to 
 obey the Church and preferred to obey God. Botli, there- 
 fore, were Lutherans before Luther, and Protestants before 
 Protestantism. Neither had any quarrel with the Church 
 as such. Both desired to Ije its faithful and obedient ser- 
 vants ; both believed its doctrines, and gladly received its 
 sacraments ; but each was compelled, by the awful voice 
 of Conscience, to refuse obedience to the supreme authority 
 of the Churcli. 
 
 Jeanne d'Arc died in 1431, — Savonarola in 1498. What 
 a change had taken place in those sixty-seven years ! The 
 Middle Ages had not ceased wlien Jeanne d'Arc died. 
 
214 EVENTS AND EPOCHS IN RELIGIOUS HISTORY. 
 
 When Savonarola was preaching, that New Era had come 
 which we call the Eenaissance. During that interim print- 
 ing had been invented and Constantinople had been taken 
 by the Turks, — two events which largely contributed to 
 this change in human thought and in the tendencies of 
 modern history. 
 
 But what was this event, wliich we call the Renaissance, 
 or New Birth ? It was the human mind changing its 
 master, — substituting for the scholastic mode of thinking 
 the way of thought belonging to classic antiquity, and 
 especially to Greece. It was Greek genius suddenly be- 
 coming master of European thought. It was the snapping 
 of cords which had fettered the mind during many centuries. 
 It was not any revolt against church dogmas or ceremo- 
 nies, but a passing over old boundaries into new fields. 
 It was no insurrection against the Church, like that of 
 Luther ; it was simply growing indifferent to it, in a new 
 interest. Nor were men aware that their new ideas were 
 hostile to the old ones. They supposed they could hold 
 both at the same time ; belong at once to Plato and Peter ; 
 be good Catholics and also good Pagans ; repeat the old 
 creeds, and yet get their faith from the philosophers and 
 poets of Athens. 
 
 Nor w^ere they wholly wrong ; for Greek literature 
 meant a revived interest in human nature and the out- 
 ward universe. It ^vas the love of seeing everything in 
 us and around us with our own eyes, and not through 
 the magnifying or diminishing optical instruments of the 
 theologians. The taking of Constantinople in 1453 sent a 
 number of Greek scholars into A¥estern Europe, and espe- 
 cially into Italy. For the first time for long centuries the 
 wonderful literature and astonishing history of Greece were 
 made known in western lands. It w^as like the discovery 
 of a new world. 
 
SAVONAROLA AND TlIK KIONAISSANCE. 215 
 
 The efiect Wiis felt in every department of tliouj^'ht and 
 action. Scholars, \vriter.s, thinkers, turned from dis})utes 
 about Nominalism and llealism to the noble beauty of 
 Plato, the resounding verse of Homer, and all tlie master- 
 pieces of Greek literature. Artists were awakened by the 
 sight of ancient monuments to new creations in archi- 
 tecture, sculpture, and painting. Men of science were 
 aroused to stutly the universe around, above, and beneath 
 them, with eyes opened to the day. # 
 
 Italy, more advanced in wealth and culture than any 
 other western nation, first felt this wave of thought. 
 Florence, more advanced in culture than the rest of 
 Italy, received its fullest inlluence. There Dante had 
 lived, there Petrarch, there Boccaccio. Dante sang to the 
 people his immortal song in their own tongue in wliich 
 they were born. Petrarch had called up the literature 
 of the Old World as a solace and education for the 
 human race. Boccaccio had described the earth not as a 
 vale of tears but as a scene of mirth and sunshine. The 
 world was a beautiful world ; youth, love, and life were 
 good, and to be enjoyed with thanksgiving. Thus, these 
 three prepared the way for the great revival. 
 
 Some preparation also had been made by the fact that 
 both Cicero and Virgil were regarded in tlie Church as 
 almost Christians, — Cicero because of his sound moral 
 teaching; and A^'irgil because of his Fourth Eclogue, in 
 wliich the Sibyl seems to be using the very language of 
 the Hebrew Pro]i]iets. Indeed, there was a service in 
 Mantua, for St. Paul's Day, in which a liymn was sung 
 e.\])ressing St. Paul's feelings on being shown the tomb of 
 Virgil at Naples : — 
 
 " Being IlmI to the mausoleum of Maro, he dropped on 
 it the dew of a pious tear and said : ' Wliat a Saint could I 
 
216 EVENTS AND EPOCHS IN RELIGIOUS HISTOKY. 
 
 have made of thee, greatest of poets, if I had only found 
 thee alive ! ' " ^ 
 
 But while some Latin authors continued to be read in 
 the Middle Ages, of Greek nothing was known. Europe 
 was as ignorant of the treasures of Greek Literature, as it 
 was a hundred years ago of the meaning of the Egyptian 
 Hieroglyphics. About the very time that the taking of 
 Constantinople sent Greek scholars to Italy, the invention 
 ft' printing led to the diffusion of books. Manuscripts had 
 cost too much to be common. The library in the Cathe- 
 dral of Lucca, in the ninth century, contained only nine- 
 teen volumes, and that was thought to be a large collection. 
 As books were a luxury for nobles and princes, bishops 
 and abbots, they were made very costly and elegant, — 
 beautifully written on fine vellum, exquisitely illustrated, 
 bound in velvet and ivory, the covers set with gold and 
 gems. In 1469 two books, Josephus and Quintus Curtius, 
 sold for forty ducats. Poggio sold two volumes of Jerome 
 for a hundred gold florins. 
 
 As soon as the taste for the classics had set in, the desire 
 and hope of finding the lost writings of great authors was 
 aroused. As men search for nuggets of gold in California, 
 so the scholars of the Eenaissance searched all the monas- 
 teries for the works of Cicero and Tacitus. Boccaccio 
 describes going to Monte Cassino, and being shown into 
 the library where the books were lying about covered with 
 dust, just as Mr. Carson found them not long ago in the 
 convents of Mount Athos. These books had been torn and 
 
 * "Ad Maroms mausoleum 
 Ductus, ftidit super eum 
 
 Pise roiem Iaci7m0e ; 
 Qnem te, inquit, reddidissem 
 Si te vivum invenissem, 
 
 Poetarum maxime ! " 
 
SAVONAROLA AND THE RENAISSANCE. 217 
 
 cut up for psalters and charms, which the monks sold to 
 women and children. 
 
 At the time of the Council of Constance, Poggio 
 searched among the monasteries of Switzerland, and there 
 found a perfect copy of Quiutilian, which was before un- 
 known. " He was covered with dust," said he, " and tilthy 
 with neglect and age. He had been thrust into a foul 
 dungeon at the foot of a tower." Poggio copied this manu- 
 script in thirty-two days, and sent it to a friend who re- 
 ceived it witli intense joy and gratitude. "Through you," 
 said he, "we now possess Quintilian entire; before we only 
 had half of him, and that defective. Oh, unexpected joy ! 
 Shall I be able to read all of Quintilian ? " Poggio also 
 found manuscripts of Lucretius, Columella, Silius Italicus, 
 and other writers. In one place he discovered one of 
 Cicero's orations which was before unknown. He travelled 
 over Northern Europe, not sparing himself any exposure to 
 cold, hunger, or fatigue. Nor did he shrink from stealing 
 a manuscript if it seemed necessary. In this w^ay he ob- 
 tained a Livy. He wrote a book lamenting that princes 
 should spend their money in any other way than in 
 searching for old manuscripts. As new discoveries were 
 continually made, the mine seemed exhaustless, and the 
 possibility of finding new works of great authors appeared 
 to have neither limit nor end. 
 
 In all this work Florence led the way. Rich beyond 
 any other city in the world, magnificent for her great 
 works of art, she was also the sent of this new learning. 
 Lorenzo of Medici became her chief executive in 1469. 
 He was then twenty-two. He inherited the wealth of the 
 great banking-house of the Medici. He was a shrewd 
 politician, a learned philosopher, a graceful poet, an excel- 
 lent Greek scholar. He enjoyed gayety and merriment, 
 and at times caroused all night with the young nobles. 
 
218 EVENTS AND EPOCHS IN EELIGIOUS HISTORY. 
 
 He was also the author of many pious hymns, and was a 
 profound theologian. One of his hymns, translated by 
 Eoscoe, is still sung in our churches. The first lines of 
 this hymn, as it stands in our books, are : — 
 
 " Let one loud song of praise arise 
 To God, whose goodness ceaseless flows." 
 
 Yet this same all-accomplished gentleman, who spent his 
 fortune on literature and art, whose palace was the cen- 
 tre of all learned men, artists, and poets, was believed by 
 Savonarola to be the worst enemy of the liberties of Flor- 
 ence ; and so he probably was. 
 
 What long summer days were spent in Lorenzo's villas 
 on the sweet banks of the Arno, wliere Michel-Angelo 
 and Poliziano, Pico Mirandola and Fieino, beguiled the 
 time, unsphering the spirit of Plato, or letting the gorgeous 
 tragedy of Greece sweep by, or bidding the soul of Orpheus 
 sing the strains which drew iron tears down Pluto's cheek. 
 
 Thus they passed the golden hours till the sun went 
 down behind the mountains of Carrara, and the Apennines 
 grew purple in the dying day, and the bright Italian stars 
 came out above the softly flowing river. Meantime Savo- 
 narola sat in his cell, brooding over the crimes of the 
 Church, the slavery of the people, and the terrible judg- 
 ments about to descend on Italy. To-morrow he will 
 preach in the great Duomo to a vast crowd, and sway 
 them with his tremendous eloquence. 
 
 The great study at this time in Florence was of the 
 philosophy of Plato. Marsilio Fieino, at eighteen years, 
 had been set apart by Cosmo de Medici to this work. A 
 devout Platonist and an earnest Catholic, he believed that 
 Socrates and Plato were both prophets who foresaw the 
 coming of Christ. When he was forty-four, he had trans- 
 lated all of Plato into Latin, and the first edition was 
 
SAVONAROLA AND THE REN.USSANCE. 219 
 
 printed ill 1482. Then he translated the later Platonists. 
 The rich nobles of Florence gladly bore the expense of 
 such publications. No wonder that Plato was enjoyed and 
 loved, for he shone in that sky like " Lucifer, star of the 
 morning." lie gave a religious and poetic interpretation 
 to nature and life. His majestic intellect, combining the 
 vast abstractions of the East with the subtle logic of 
 Greece, and pouring poetic light over all things, was like a 
 revelation to those minds which had been fed on the husks 
 of scholastic learning. Jowett and Grote may umlerstand 
 Plato far better than the Florentine Academy, but they 
 certainly never loved him as much. In those days men 
 burned a lamp before his statue, crowned his bust with 
 laurels, celebrated his birthday with orations. On one of 
 these birthdays, we are told that the members of this Pla- 
 tonic Club in Florence first i)artook of a banquet and then 
 discussed the Symposium of Plato, — each member of the 
 club, in turn, reading and explaining a passage. 
 
 One young man there was at these meetings, possessing 
 charming beauty, noble birth, wonderful intellect, and 
 accomplished in every art, — the prodigy of his time, 
 Pico di Mirandola. He was philosopher, linguist, poet, 
 logician, mathematician ; and excelled in all these depart- 
 ments. He had studietl Aquinas, Scotus, and Averroes ; 
 he was familiar with the Jewish Cabala. His memory 
 was so pnxligious that he went to Itome in 140G and 
 })ublished nine hundred theses in regard to all questions 
 of philosophy, from which he challenged any Roman 
 scholar to select one, he being ready to defend it without 
 further preparation. A line from one of his letters shows 
 how fully he believed that philosophy and Christianity 
 were one. "Philosophy seeks truth; Theology finds it; 
 Itcligibn possesses it." And this brilliant intellect also 
 became the devoted admirer and friencl of Savonai'ola. 
 
220 EVENTS AND EPOCHS IN KELIGIOUS HISTOiU . 
 
 Into this circle came the wonderful Alberti, another 
 universal genius. Physically so gifted that he could take 
 a standing jump over the head of the tallest man, shoot 
 an arrow through the thickest armor, fling a coin over 
 the loftiest church, and tame with his magnetic touch 
 the wildest horse, — he was also a good scholar, musician, 
 painter, architect. He made discoveries in optics, im- 
 proved perspective, was a great mechanic, and the most 
 fascinating of men in conversation. He so loved nature 
 that tears came to his eyes as he walked through the 
 fields. 
 
 Nor were the women of Florence less gifted or less 
 scholarly. The daughter of the Chancellor exchanged 
 Greek epigrams with Poliziano, who so fell in love with 
 her Greek that he wished to marry her. The curious 
 feature of this rage for learning was that it was found 
 in persons of all qualities, ranks, and characters. Cruel 
 tyrants and rude soldiers had the same appetite for Greek 
 books and h'terature as the noble ladies and philosophers 
 of the Court of Lorenzo. Subtle and bloody despots 
 would murder brother or friend to establish their power, 
 and then devote the money, gained by rapine, to found a 
 library. Unbridled license and accurate learning went 
 easily together. The nature of tliese men seemed to be 
 full of all kinds of forces, good and bad, depraved and yet 
 refined. Paganism, in its worst forms, associated itself 
 with Christian faith. The old rules which had bound men 
 by a merely external authority were broken, the new 
 rules by which men slioiild become a law to themselves 
 had not arrived, — tlierefore all was wild license. " In 
 those days there was no king in Israel, and every man 
 did what was right in his own eyes." 
 
 All this shocked the noble heart and pure conscience of 
 Savonarola. While to others a better and more divine day 
 
SAVONAROLA AND THE RENAISSANCE. 221 
 
 seemed about to dawn, to hi in the corruption of the 
 World and Church apj^eared to be growing blacker every 
 hour. 
 
 He was a man who lived in a Transition Period ; but 
 there was no Transition in him. In sucli a time most 
 persons are neither one thing nor the otlier ; or they are 
 sometimes one thing and sometimes the otlier ; but Savo- 
 narola was single and sincere down to tlie roots of his 
 being ; " a prophet, yea and more than a projihet." He 
 was one of those to whom the eternal law of rii-ht was 
 ever present, supreme, — the Immanuel, " God with us." 
 In many respects he resembled Bernard. Each spoke to his 
 age out of convictions foreign to the age. Eacli drew his 
 moral life from within, not from without. Both were able 
 to move the woild, because they had found a stand-p(jint 
 outside of the world. In easy times tliey were not much 
 loved, but in difficult hours each was called for, and each 
 came out to do wliat no other man or men could accom- 
 plish. Too austere to be agreeable to the lovers of worldly 
 peace, they fascinated all the better natures of their period, 
 and gathered to themselves the reverence of the best. 
 
 § 2. Early life of Savonarola. His preaching in Flor- 
 ence. — Girolamo Savonarola was born in Ferrara, Sept. 21, 
 1452 ; the son of Nicholas and Helen. His grandfather, 
 Michel, was a distinguished physician. His father was 
 inferior to his mother, who was a woman of an elevated 
 nature and strong mind. Girolamo was taught in his 
 childhood by liis grandfather, a man of wisdom and expe- 
 rience, who bestf>we(l the most affectionate care on the 
 training of his favorite grandson, who became a great 
 student of Thomas Aquinas and of Aristotle. 
 
 Ferrara was then a sjdendid city, containing a hundred 
 thousand inhabitants, and an illustrious court which re- 
 ceived visits from kings and emperors. Nicholas III., 
 
222 EVENTS AND EPOCHS IN RELIGIOUS HISTORY. 
 
 Marquis of Este, ruled in 1402, and erected the splendid 
 and peculiar tower of the Cathedral. The family of Este 
 steered clear of the wars which raged around them, and 
 were called the Lords of Peace. Those who see the empty 
 streets of Ferrara to-day can hardly realize what a focus 
 of wealth and activity it was under tliese princes, whose 
 love of literature and art have been immortalized by the 
 glory and gloom of Tasso. Nothing could exceed the 
 gorgeous displays in Ferrara on public occasions. When 
 the Pope passed through the city, the river Po was covered 
 with barges dressed with flags, bands of nmsic played on 
 all sides, the streets were strewn with flowers, and the 
 houses were draped with cloth of gold. 
 
 But amid all this gayety and splendor Savonarola grew 
 up sad. He spoke little, he fasted and prayed, spent 
 hours in the churches, read the Bible and St. Thomas, 
 and wrote poems on such themes as the " Euin of the 
 World." The dark side of nature and life fascinated him 
 with its mystery of evil. To this was added the pain 
 of a disappointment in love. He loved the daughter of a 
 Florentine exile, but was refused on account of his low 
 birth. 
 
 At twenty- three years of age he left his home and en- 
 tered a convent, giving as a reason the corruptions of the 
 world. In the convent he increased his fasts, and became 
 so emaciated as to seem rather a spectre than a man. All 
 he wished was to obey and to pray. He stayed seven years 
 in this Dominican convent at Bologna, instructing the 
 novices ; and the most notable fact of his life therein was 
 a poem written on the " Ruin of the Church," in which he 
 ascribes its misery to Eome, calling her " a deceitful and 
 proud harlot, " and saying to the Church : " Ah ! lady ! 
 could I break those proud wings ! " She replies : " Weep, 
 and be silent." 
 

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SAVONAROLA AND THE RENAISSANCE. 223 
 
 Well might he weep over the wickedness at Iloiiie. 
 Corruption there had reached its height. Yroni the death 
 of Pius 11. iu 1404 began that scandalous succession of 
 popes which reached its height in Alexander VI. Six- 
 tus IV. obtained tlie papacy by bribes. Having secured 
 it, he used his power only t(j gratify his appetites and 
 to exalt his family. He made his nephews cardinals, en- 
 riched them with money extorted from the people, and 
 plunged Italy into wars in order to obtain for them princi- 
 palities. His favorite nephew he made Cardinal, Patriarch 
 of Constantinople, and Archbishop of Florence ; and en- 
 riched him so that his luxury astonished Europe, — he 
 spending on banquets and festivals two hundred thousand 
 florins in a year. Innocent VIII. , the successor of Sixtus, 
 sought chiefly to enrich his seven children. Alexander 
 VI., a monster of w- ickedness and licentiousness, succeeded 
 by poison and assassination in destroying the great Roman 
 families of Colonna, Orsini, and Savelli, and taking pos- 
 session of their property to enrich his five children. He 
 finally died, as is said, of poison prepared by his orders 
 for some of his cardinals. 
 
 Amid such horrors as these Savonarola, a sincerely re- 
 ligious man, grew up as a preacher and monk. At first he 
 was unsuccessful in preaching, and utterly failed of inter- 
 esting his hearers. In 1482, when thirty years old, he 
 went to Florence and immediately entered the Convent of 
 St. ^lark, where he was to spend the rest of his life and 
 to do the wcnk which made him immortal. 
 
 Who, tliat has ever seen Florence will not assent to the 
 epithet, the l>eautiful City. " Beautiful for situation," 
 says the Psalmist, " the joy of the whole earth," — speak- 
 ing of Jerusalem. So sleeps Florence, on the banks of the 
 Aruoat the foot of the Apennines, — with its one hundred 
 and seventy churches, and having in the midst the Cath- 
 
224 EVENTS AND EPOCHS IN RELIGIOUS HISTORY. 
 
 edral Square, with the great Duomo, the tower of Giotto, 
 and the Baptistery. These three buildings were all stand- 
 ing, complete as now, when Savonarola came to Florence. 
 Michel-Angelo said of this lofty dome as he looked at it : 
 " I will not make one like you ; I cannot make one better 
 than you ! " Of the bronze gates of the Baptistery, Mi- 
 chel-Angelo said that they were "fit to be the Gates 
 of Paradise." This Piazza, where Dante sat in his old 
 age in the sun, was to be the scene of the triumphs of 
 Savonarola. The lovely belfry of Giotto was to call the 
 people to hear his sermons in the great Cathedral. The 
 painted glass windows, which are there now, let the colored 
 light fall on the forms of his audience ; for they date from 
 1434. The Campanile was built in 1334. The Cathedral 
 was finished in 1446, and the gates of the Baptistery in 
 1424. Three of the four stone bridoes were finished in 
 the previous century. The walls bad been completed a 
 hundred years ; the pavement of the streets two hundred. 
 When the Dominican Friar came to Florence it was a city 
 filled with learned men and women and with great artists ; 
 renowned for its wealth, luxury, and splendor; and, to 
 the outward eye, prosperous beyond compare. 
 
 While Lorenzo was alternately composing sacred hymns, 
 and songs to be sung at tlie masquerades ; while lie 
 was shedding the blood of every patriot who opposed his 
 tyranny, and plundering the treasury in order to patronize 
 authors and artists, — Savonarola was devoting long days to 
 the study of the Bible, his one book. Under a damask- 
 rose, grown into a tree in the garden of St. Mark, he 
 lectured at first only to the monks. Then, as others came, 
 he went into the convent chapel ; then, as strangers began 
 to flock to hear him, he went to the Cathedral. There he 
 preached in 1491, not in Latin but Italian, so that all 
 could understand him. He spoke with affectionate warmth. 
 
SAVONAROLA AND THE RENAISSANCE. 225 
 
 and in a friendly, familiar tone, like a brother speaking to 
 brethren. He would begin with a quotation from the 
 r>il)le, and interpret it by a curious system of his own, — 
 giving first the Literal meaning of the passage, then its 
 Spiritual sense, then its Allegorical, then its Moral, and 
 finally what he called the Anagogical interpretation ; which 
 last related to the Church Triumphant in Heaven. Soon 
 he broke away from these subtleties, and rose into an in- 
 spired state. He seized the topic of the hour, the state of 
 the Church and the World, describing the sins and wrongs 
 of both ; and from the l>ible sought terrible prophecies of 
 danger and w^oe unless the people would repent. He 
 denounced the sins of the common people, such as gaming, 
 avarice, and dishonesty. The two ideas which possessed 
 his soul were Liberty and Righteousness. The people of 
 Florence had formerly governed themselves ; but, as in old 
 Rome the conflict between the Plebeians and Patricians 
 was perpetual, so it was in Florence. The great and 
 wealthy families seized the power ; and at the head of 
 these were the Medicis. Because Lorenzo was a patron of 
 art and literature, Roscoe and others have forgotten his 
 crimes against the State and People, his cruelty, profligacy, 
 rapine, and fraud ; but Savonarola remembered these, and 
 refused him absolution on his death-bed unless he would 
 restore to the people of Florence their liberties. He 
 would not do so, and died without absolution. 
 
 One of Savonarola's maxims, often repeated in his ser- 
 mons, was : " One only knows that which he practises." 
 Action was with him the test of all belief. He also 
 dwelt continually on the power of Love. " Love," he said, 
 " can move all things. Tlie physician wdio loves his patient 
 is the most certain to cure him. Who has taught that 
 young mother to nurse her child ? Who gives her strength 
 to labor day and night for it ? Love teaches her this. 
 
 15 
 
226 EVENTS AND EPOCHS IN RELIGIOUS HISTORY. 
 
 What helped Christ to do his great work but love ? Love 
 led him among sinners ; love made him endure all sorrows ; 
 love led him to the cross ; love raised him from the dead." 
 
 He preached with power against the sins of the prelates 
 and the princes, and prophesied coming woes which were 
 soon to fall on the land. " I am like hail," he said, 
 " which falls on all who have no shelter." He uttered 
 these predictions frequently, and at last the evils came. 
 Throughout the whole of Lent, 1494, he announced the 
 approach of a new Cyrus, who should march through 
 Italy as a conqueror, meeting no resistance. The subject 
 of his preaching was Noah's Ark, and he took all Lent in 
 describing it. He wondered himself why he should get 
 on so slowly ; but in September he began again to preach 
 to the immense crowds who thronged the Cathedral. At 
 last, on the 21st of September, he reached the Deluge, and 
 read his text with a voice full of feeling : " Behold ! I, even 
 I, do bring a flood of waters on the earth ! " All the peo- 
 ple shuddered ; for on that morning news arrived that the 
 French King and army had crossed the Alps, and were 
 descending into Italy. 
 
 § 3. Invasion of Italy hy Charles VIII. Savonarola's 
 Services. — Savonarola's predictions had hitherto come true. 
 In the presence of a number of citizens he had foretold 
 the coming death of the Pope, of the King of Naples, and 
 of Lorenzo di Medici ; and in a few weeks after, all were 
 dead. Now he had announced the coming of a foreign 
 power which should conquer Italy. It was already descend- 
 ing from the mountains, and not an Italian Prince was 
 prepared to meet it. These were the days when, in Italy, 
 two armies cased in armor might fight all day and n6 one 
 be killed except those who fell from their horses and were 
 trampled under foot. The French troops were then the 
 best in the world, — well armed, well drilled, and led 
 
SAVONAROLA AND THE KENAISSANCE. 227 
 
 by the foremost ciiptaiiis of Europe. Conquering every- 
 thing in his way, Charles VI II. approached Florence. 
 There were three powerful fortresses which might have 
 resisted him ; but Tiero di Medici, the ruler of Florence, 
 fled to the French camp and surrendered them to the 
 King. Thus Tuscany seemed lost. An embassy sent to 
 beseech the King to spare the city of Florence had re- 
 turned without success. The people of the city became 
 furious, and said they had been betrayed and would, at 
 least, plunder and destroy the palaces of their rulers ; but 
 there was one power remaining in Florence to which all 
 submitted, — that of the great preacher. He told them 
 that he would go to the Duomo to speak to them, and 
 all flocked together there. He held them in his hand; 
 one hasty word from his lips might have filled the city 
 witli fire and blood, — such was the anger in the public 
 mind ; but he preached patience, submission to God's will, 
 peace to all men ; and the storm was calmed. The great 
 historian Guicciardini says that Savonarola on that day 
 saved the city. 
 
 Other ambassadors were selected to go to the King, and 
 with them they now took care to send the Frate Sa- 
 vonarola. The Signory then decided to depose the Me- 
 dici and take the government back into the hands of 
 the people. Piero having returned to the city, and at- 
 tempting to get control of it by force, was driven out, and 
 a reward of three thousand florins was ofi'ered for his head. 
 The ambassadors to the King had brought back a cold an- 
 swer. Savonarola, journeying on foot, arrived later, and, 
 going into the royal presence, spoke to the King in tlie 
 name of tlie Lord, telling liim that he was an instrument in 
 the divine hands to punish the sins of Italy, but that if 
 he was not just and merciful the Lord would break him in 
 pieces like a potter's vessel. To this the King listened 
 
228 EVENTS AND EPOCHS IN EELIGIOUS HISTORY. 
 
 with attentive and docile ears, and promised to treat Flor- 
 ence well. So he entered it peacefully, but was too much 
 satisfied with it to leave it again. Trouble was about to 
 commence between the French soldiers and the people of 
 the city. Then Savonarola came once more to the King, 
 and w^arned him not to delay longer what he had to do ; 
 and so the French left the city. 
 
 And now the great bell tolled to call the people to 
 deliberate on a new form of government in place of 
 the tyranny which they had escaped. What should it 
 be ? That it should not be a despotism all agreed. Many 
 looked with envy toward Venice, — that great State which, 
 amid the revolutions of other Italian governments, had 
 maintained its long and solemn repose on the Lagunes 
 and by the sands of the Lido. The party of the " Gentle- 
 men" wished some form of government like that of Venice. 
 The lawyers were for originating a new constitution. No 
 one knew exactly what was wanted ; time was passing ; 
 dangers were around ; all was indecision. At last the eyes 
 of men turned to Savonarola, — " the man," says Villari, 
 " destined to save Florence." Hitherto he had avoided 
 taking any part in city politics ; his whole soul was 
 filled with the woes of the Church and the perils of Chris- 
 tianity ; but the time had come when he could no longer 
 refuse. He stepped forward and took the helm. The Ship 
 of State at once felt the grasp of a man, and slowly began 
 to move forward, all its sails beginning to fill and draw. 
 
 He went to his throne, the pulpit of the Cathedral, and 
 preached on the times. He pointed oat the dangers of the 
 one-man power, and declared that the people must elect 
 tlie magistrates and approve the laws. He advised a gen- 
 eral amnesty, equalization of taxes, and a government 
 modelled on that of the Great Council at Venice. 
 
 The impulse thus given by Savonarola took with it the 
 
SAVONAROLA AND THE RENAISSANCE. 220 
 
 whole people. Every day he preached to them, commend- 
 iug — lirst of all — ret'orin of morals and purity of man- 
 ners; and then advising what measures should be pur- 
 sued. The Great Council, which had supreme power, 
 which appointed all magistrates and made all laws, was 
 elective. Florence then contained ninety thousand in- 
 habitants, and of these only about thirty-two hundred were 
 eligible to the Council, which consisted of a thousand 
 men. A smaller assembly of eighty was an executive 
 body. Taxation, before in a wretched condition, was ar- 
 ranged on Savonarola's plan of a tax of ten per cent on 
 incomes derived from permanent property. This plan 
 worked so well that it has continued to the present time. 
 
 The republican government being thus established, Sa- 
 vonarola next persuaded the Council to establish a Pawn- 
 ers' JJank, — that is, a bank for loaning small sums at a 
 moderate rate of interest. This business had been in the 
 hands of the Jews, who lent at thirty-two per cent with 
 compound interest. The new institution lent money at 
 six i)er cent, the borrowers bein^^ obliged to take an oath 
 not to gamble with tlie money obtained from the bank. 
 One other law was passed about this time, " removing the 
 sentt'uce of outlawry from Messer Dante Alighieri, great- 
 grandson of the Poet, and allowing him to return to Flor- 
 ence without paying taxes." 
 
 The personal power of Savonarola was shown in the 
 influence exercised by him over Benedetto. He was the 
 son of a Florentine goldsmith, and was himself a success- 
 ful miniature-painter. In the flower of his youth, full of 
 manly qualities, brave, gentle, and joyous, with a tixste for 
 art and ])oetry, he led a life of pleasure. At this time 
 the renown of the great preacher of St. Mark's drew 
 crowds to the cathedral ; but Benedetto refused to hear 
 him, and took sides with the enemies of Savonarola, the 
 
230 EVENTS AND EPOCHS IN HELIGIOUS II ISTO LI Y. 
 
 Arrabbiati. One day he visited a noble lady who highly 
 praised the sermons of Savonarola, and begged him to go 
 with her to hear her favorite Friar preach in the Duomo. 
 Eeluctantly he went and unwillingly remained ; but when 
 Savonarola began to speak, Benedetto was fascinated and 
 a strange feeling came over him. His volatile spirit was 
 subdued into profound sadness. " I felt more dead than 
 alive," he says. An irresistible attraction drew him daily 
 to the place where Savonarola conducted the services. He 
 broke away from his pleasant vices and his gay companions ; 
 and when he thought he had conquered his worldly desires 
 and the pride of life, he went to the Friar and said he 
 wished to enter the convent. Savonarola dissuaded him, 
 pointing out the difficulties of a monastic life, and put him 
 on a long probation. Even after this was borne with suc- 
 cess, Savonarola did not admit him to the order, but ap- 
 pointed him to visit the sick and follow the dead to their 
 graves. He then gave him personal instruction, and at 
 last received him into the monastery. Benedetto became 
 one of his most faithful followers, and was loyal to his 
 master to the end. 
 
 Amid all this popularity and success the prophetic lieart 
 of Savonarola remained sad. He still saw the black root of 
 evil in the general corruption of Italy, tlie depraved Church, 
 the wicked Pope, the frivolous people. In his sermons his 
 eloquence grew deeper and more solemn than ever. 
 
 § 4. Opposition to Savonarola. The Pope forbids him to 
 preach. — Meantime a secret opposition against him was 
 growing up among a certain class in Florence. All parties 
 were opposed to the Medici, but the higher and wealthier 
 people, who had hoped to obtain the power for themselves, 
 were very angry with Savonarola for his democratic re- 
 public. They also hated the Puritanic morality he had 
 introduced into Florence. They contemptuously called 
 
SAVONAROLA AND THH UENAISSANCE. 231 
 
 his followers Piagmni, — " Cry-bal)ies ; " and from tlieir 
 anf^T feelinLTs were themselves called Arrahhiatl — "Enrawd 
 Ones." They found fault with Savonarola for meddlinu: 
 with the affairs of State, and their bitterness increased 
 with his popularity. They sneered when the ladies gave 
 up their ricli dresses and ornaments, when wild young 
 men became serious, when the working people read their 
 Bibles during their noonday rest, and even when rogues 
 returned the money they had unjustly gained. So they 
 scoffed at Savonarola and his followers, — called them Syc- 
 opliants, Babies, and Paternoster-chewers. 
 
 ]\leantime the cunning Pope, Alexander Borgia, had heard 
 of Savonarola, and hated him equally for his denunciations 
 of the vices which Borgia loved, and for his love of the 
 freedom which Borgia hated. He sent him a honeyed 
 invitation to come to Rome, meaning probably to put him 
 to death there. Savonarola declined going. Then came a 
 Brief suspending him from preaching ; and at the same 
 time, by the recommendation of a Dominican bishop, the 
 ofler of a cardinal's hat if lie would cease his invectives 
 against Rome and support the Pope. Savonarola indig- 
 nantly refused, saying that he expected one day a hat red 
 with his own blood, and this was the only red liat he 
 would accept. These words also were to be fulfilled. Tlie 
 prohibition to preach was then removed. 
 
 Aljout this time, in his sermons, he declared himself a 
 good Catholic, and that he was determined to obey the 
 Church of Rome. However, he very much diminished 
 the value of this obedience by adding that if the Pope 
 commanded anything contrary to the gospel he must refuse, 
 and say to the Pope : " Thou art now not a good shepherd ; 
 thou art not a member of the Roman Cliurch." 
 
 He then denounced with his usual boldness, as though 
 he had lieen Luther himself, the reliance of the people on 
 outward ceremonies. 
 
232 EVENTS AND EPOCHS IN RELIGIOUS HISTORY. 
 
 The new Eepublic of Florence was surrounded with 
 dangers, and it was difficult to know what would be the 
 result. The Friar was still the encouragement and sup- 
 port of the people, and became more and more odious to 
 the aristocratic classes, to the Pope, and to the evil-doers. 
 
 Carnival approaching, Savonarola had determined to 
 stop the wild and licentious orgies to which the peo- 
 ple had been accustomed by the Medici. The children 
 had enjoyed taking part in them, — asking for money, 
 lighting bonfires, having feasts, throwing stones, and sing- 
 incf foolish son2:s. Savonarola collected the children to- 
 gether and oave them another amusement. He tauo'ht 
 
 o o o 
 
 them to sing hymns, and made them go from house 
 to house collecting the immoral books and pictures to 
 burn in a great bonfire. An immense quantity of these 
 objects having been collected, on the last day of Carnival 
 the children walked in a procession, had a frugal repast, 
 sang their liynms, and then went to the Square where a 
 great pile of wood was raised on which were placed the pic- 
 tures, books, and gay ornaments, and all were burned. 
 
 But we hasten to the conclusion of our story. Although 
 the Medici were defeated, yet the strength of those who 
 hated popular government, united with the influence of 
 the Pope and of those who disliked the Puritanical virtue 
 of Savonarola, gave the enemies of the Friar an ascendancy 
 in Florence, and at last the control of the government. 
 At this time the Pope excommunicated him, the reason 
 given being that he had disobeyed his order to come to 
 Rome, which was unquestionably true. This excommu- 
 nication was published in Florence with great solemnity 
 in the Cathedral, — all the clergy except the Domini- 
 cans being present, the bells tolling, and the lights being 
 extinguished while the paper was read. During the next 
 few days all was tunmlt in Florence. Disorder, riot. 
 
SAVONAROLA AND THE RENAISSANCE. 233 
 
 debauchery, began their course a,c,^ain, as if no reform 
 had taken phice. It was evident that the fickle and easily 
 moved peo[)le of Florence had not received any profound 
 impression, or experienced any real change of conviction. 
 
 One little gleam of light, however, returned in the midst 
 of this stormy day. At the next electicni a government 
 favorable to Savonarola was elected. His influence also 
 was increased by some tragedies in the Borgia family. 
 One of the Pope's sons — a cardinal — having murdered 
 his brother, this event bowed the wicked old Tope's head 
 to the ground. Savonarola, though excommunicated, ad- 
 dressed an affectionate letter to the Pope, calling on him 
 to repent of his sins and lead a better life. The Pope's 
 giief and penitence, however, were short-lived, and his 
 rage against Savonarola w\as increased, 
 
 § 5. Tlic Ordeal. Savonarola seized and imj^risoncd. — 
 On the 18th of March, 1498, a new command to cease 
 from preaching having come from Eome, Savonarola took 
 leave of the congreijation forever. As a last effort he en- 
 deavored to cause a General Council to assemble, in which 
 he could plead his own cause and procure the deposition 
 of Borgia as a heretic and infidel. He appealed to the 
 King of France and the Emperor of Germany, but the 
 letters were intercepted and sent to Rome. Another elec- 
 tion had put the Friar's enemies in power. 
 
 His opponents had challenged him to test the truth of 
 his doctrines by a fiery ordeal. This challenge was eagerly 
 accepted by one of his friends, Fra Domenico ; but after 
 all the preparations had been made the challenger did not 
 ap])ear, and the blame was adroitly thrown on Savonarola 
 and his party. This was done so boldly and ingeniously 
 that the people were deceived, and the popularity of Sa- 
 vonarola was temporarily destroyed. It is hard for us to 
 understand such fluctuations of feeling, but it is certain 
 
234 EVENTS AND EPOCHS IN RELIGIOUS HISTORY. 
 
 that this proposed ordeal threw him into the power of his 
 enemies. They lost no time in bringing an armed mob to 
 attack him in his convent. The monks defended them- 
 selves, and for a time successfully ; but the church was set 
 on fire, several on both sides were killed, and Savonarola 
 ordered them to surrender. 
 
 Savonarola was taken to prison amid the insults and 
 the wild fury of the mob. This was on Palm Sunday. 
 A commission of seventeen examiners, — composed of his 
 deadly enemies, the leaders of the opposite party, — was 
 appointed to try him. During the eleven days of the trial 
 he was repeatedly tortured, sometimes being made deliri- 
 ous by the pain, but his courage never yielded. As soon 
 as his mind returned he became invulnerable, and rose to 
 a sublime height of peace and strength. The Pope's com- 
 missioners arrived and inflicted on him more severe tor- 
 tures. From the 8th of April, during forty days, he and 
 his two companions were subjected to these repeated ex- 
 aminations and sufferings. At last, on May 22, the sen- 
 tence of death was pronounced. They were to be strangled 
 and then burned. 
 
 § 6. The Death and Character of Savonarola. — The de- 
 tails of these events, as taken from the testimony of many 
 witnesses, are as follows. 
 
 The Signory, having imprisoned Savonarola and his 
 companions, hesitated at first whether they should be tried 
 in Florence or sent to Eome. They decided for the former 
 alternative, and appointed a special commission of seven- 
 teen examiners, most of them the deadly enemies of the 
 Friar. 
 
 As every confession extorted by torture from Savonarola 
 was immediately retracted by him when the torture ceased, 
 the Notary falsified the record in order to show that 
 Savonarola had admitted the truth of the crimes charged 
 
SAVONAROLA AND THE RENAISSANCE. 235 
 
 against him. * The points on which the Friar thus varied, 
 were those relating to his prophetic visions, lie dechired 
 that this was a private aHair and not a matter of State, that 
 the result would prove whether he had predicted the truth 
 or not. But when interrogated in regard to his motives 
 and actions, he never wavered, but declared his whole 
 purpose was to have the Church chastised and relormed. 
 For this end he had sought to have a Council called, and 
 to have the Tope deposed lor his many crimes. lie oiten 
 repeated : " I meant to do great things for Italy, and be- 
 yond Italy." When asked ii' he expected to be chosen 
 Pope, he rei)lied : " No ! for if I had done such a work I 
 should have been greater than a Pope." He denied that he 
 had interfered with the details of government or meddled 
 with the action of parties in Florence. " My only object 
 was to bring about free government, in general, and such 
 laws as would improve it." 
 
 The testimony of the Signory in their letter to the Pope, 
 contains these words : — 
 
 " We have had to deal with a man of extraordinary patience 
 in sufferiug and of great sagacity ; who hardened himself 
 against torture, involved the truth in all kinds of obscurity, 
 and seemed to be deliberating either about establishing for 
 himself, by pretended sanctity, an eternal fame with posterity, 
 or to brave imprisonment and death. Notwithstanding a long 
 and most careful interrogatory, and with all the help of torture, 
 we could scarcely extract anything out of him which he wished 
 to conceal from us, although we laid open almost the inmost 
 recesses of his mind.''^ 
 
 * Nardi, in his " History <>f Florence," i^ays that one of the examiner.'^, 
 an enemy of Savonarola, admitted, in conversation with him, that in the 
 Process of Fra, Girolamo "some things were left out and .some added for the 
 sake of the object in view." These, says Nardi, were the exact words of 
 his reply. 
 
 ^ This is Homer's English translation of the original Latin words as 
 given by Villari. 
 
236 EVENTS AND EPOCHS IN RELIGIOUS HISTORY. 
 
 Savonarola signed a paper purporting to contain his 
 answers and confessions. Villari believes it was altered 
 from that read to him. It is certain that when all the 
 witnesses had signed, he turned to them and uttered these 
 exact words : — 
 
 " My doctrine is known to you and known to all. lu this 
 state of tribulation I ask of you only two things, — take care 
 of the novices and see that they are preserved in that Christian 
 doctrine in which we have hitherto maintained them ; and pray 
 to the Lord for me, whose spirit of prophecy has at this time 
 forsaken me." 
 
 Fra Domenico, the companion and friend of Savonarola, 
 showed on his examination a generous and noble courage. 
 All the tortures inflicted on him never made him waver. 
 His left hand was maimed by the torture, but he wrote his 
 declaration with the right hand, left uninjured for that pur- 
 pose. The Signory allowed him to do so, hoping to find 
 in it some ground of accusation against him or against 
 Savonarola. He declared in this : *' I have ever firmly 
 believed and do now believe, and nothing has made me 
 think otherwise, in all the prophecies of Savonarola. Give 
 credit to what I say. I have always had a tender con- 
 science. I know what a sin it is to utter a falsehood or 
 conceal a truth in the presence of a judge." After they 
 liad again tortured him, he took the pen and wrote : 
 " God's will be done. I never perceived nor suspected 
 that Father Hieronyme deceived or feigned anything. He 
 Avas always a most upright man, and a man of a rare 
 
 nature I have always obeyed him with singleness of 
 
 heart. I would at any time have publicly declared it if I 
 had found any duplicity in him." 
 
 Some of the friars of St. Mark, companions and friends 
 of Savonarola, were also examined. To them was shown 
 
SAVONAROLA AND THE RENAISSANCE. 237 
 
 the pretended admission of their master, in which he was 
 made to confess himself a deceiver. Imposed u})on by 
 tliis false confession they renounced him with indi^^nation, 
 and asked pardon of the Pope for Iniving followi'd him ; hut 
 in tliese very expressions of anger against Savonarola tiiey 
 uncouscionsly bear witness to liis ])urity and worth. They 
 say virtually : " No wonder we weie imjjo.sed on by him, 
 for notliing could exceed his apparent humility, holiness, 
 admirable conversation, fervent ])ray(ns, and general purity 
 of life." Some of them said : " The subtlety of liis doc- 
 trine ; the rectitude of his life ; the sanctity of his habits ; 
 his feigned devotion; the success which attended his efforts 
 to reclaim the city from vice, usury, and crimes ; the many 
 events, which no man could have foreseen, that came to 
 pass according to his predictions, — were so great that, had 
 he not himself retracted, we never could have withheld our 
 belief from his words." 
 
 Savonarola spent his time in prison in writing religious 
 meditations and ]»rayers. In his torture his right arm had 
 been purposely spared to enable him to write his con- 
 fession. He was therefore able to use his pen. 
 
 These meditations and ])rayers have been preserved. 
 They are one long outpouring of his soul to God. His 
 enemies are f(»rgotten. He utters no complaints against 
 the injustice done him. He prays for the Church, the 
 world, his friends, himself. He relies on God's grace and 
 Christ's work for forgiveness and salvation. 
 
 These " Meditations," thus com])osed in prison, acquired 
 immense celebrity. One of them passed soon through 
 tliirteen editions, and was afterward republished by Martin 
 Luther, with a preface in which he declared that Savona- 
 rola had antici])ated his own teaching. " Some theological 
 mud," says Luther, "still adheres to the feet of tliis lioly 
 man, but yet he maintains justification by faitli alo!!", and 
 
238 EVENTS AND EPOCHS IN RELIGIOUS HISTORY. 
 
 he was burned by the Pope ; but he lives in blessedness, 
 and Christ has canonized him." 
 
 If Savonarola lost his courage and presence of mind 
 during his tortures, his whole strength came back when 
 he was led to death. On the way he and his companions 
 were met by an order that they should have their gowns 
 taken from them, leaving them only in their tunics. Savo- 
 narola was disturbed by this for a moment, but directly his 
 calmness returned, and he held his gown in his hand, say- 
 ing : " Holy dress, I longed to wear thee ! Thou wast given 
 me by God's grace and I have kept thee spotless to this 
 day ! I do not leave thee, — thou art taken from me ! " 
 
 As they were led through the streets, the rabble were 
 allowed to offer the three friars every insult. They bore it 
 in silence. One person, however, spoke a word of sym- 
 pathy. To him Savonarola benignantly replied : " In the 
 last hour, only God can give comfort to man ! " His last 
 words were : " Tlie Lord has suffered as much for me." 
 He died at ten in the morning, May 23, 1498 A. D. 
 
 It was not longj after the deatli of Savonarola before a re- 
 action began against liis opponents and murderers. During 
 a short period his followers were persecuted and his mem- 
 ory insulted. The Pope, who seemed to feel himself freed 
 from all restraint l)y the Friar's death, gave full course to 
 his passions and ambitions. He offered for sale, in one 
 year, twelve cardinal's hats ; so says Guicciardini. He 
 formed an alliance with the Turks. He levied such con- 
 tributions on Florence that the city was obliged to return 
 to the policy recommended by Savonarola, and ally them- 
 selves with France. 
 
 The Congregation of the Index, sixty years after the 
 death of Savonarola, examined his writings and declared 
 them free from heresy. 
 
 His j)rophecies continued to be veritied. When Eome 
 
SAVONAROLA AND Tilt: KENAISSANCE. 239 
 
 was sacked by the armies ul' Charles V. it seemed as il" his 
 predictions were iultilled to the letter. St. Filippo Neri 
 and St. CateriiKi dei liicci worshii)ped liim as a Saint. 
 Benedict XIV. believed him wortliy t(j be so called. His 
 portrait by liallaelle is on the walls of the Vatican, in 
 the " Dispute ut' the Sacrament." He came before his 
 time ; he was a martyr to the truth which was to dawn 
 afterwards, — a lieformer before the Iieformation. Not 
 that he rejected a single tenet of the Church of liome, but 
 he rejected her fundamental principle ; he refused to obey 
 the Church when the Church seemed to command him to 
 disobey God. He was an apostle of the liiglit of Private 
 Judgment. He was a reformer of the vices of the Church, 
 a defender of popular liberty, and a man of prayer and faith. 
 
 The influence of Savonarola on artists and art must not 
 be forgotten, liio, in his " Poetry of Christian Art," says 
 that the simple monk was suiTounded by a group of ad- 
 mirers which contained philosophers, poets, artists of all 
 kinds. Pico della Mirandola was one of these ; Benivieni, 
 a Platonist and Iriend of the Medici, another. Lorenzo di 
 Credi, a noble artist of the school of Leonardo di Vinci, was 
 a devoted admirer of the Friar ; Fra Benedetto, a follower 
 of Fra Angelico, was another. Fra Bartolemeo, another 
 great artist, was also a disciple These two last mentioned, 
 with Baldini and Gliirlandaio, formed a school of relij^ious 
 art under the influence of Savonarola. Our monk in his 
 convent was surrounded by the saintly faces with which 
 Fra Angelico had illuminated the walls, — faces full of a 
 divine beauty. Far from despising art, Savonarola loved 
 it and hoped great things from it. 
 
 The influence of Savonarola was felt by the greatest men 
 of his own day. The historian Guicciardini speaks of his 
 rich virtues, sound judgment, deep philosophy, and of his 
 pure life. 
 
240 EVENTS AND EPOCHS IN RELIGIOUS HISTORY, 
 
 In the year 1495 Philippe de Comines passed through 
 Tuscany and. went to St. Mark's to see Savonarola; and 
 that experienced judge of men left the place filled with 
 high admiration. He expected to see a singular man and 
 found an extraordinary one. 
 
 " He spoke to me of the meeting, which had just taken place 
 in Venice, better than I could have done who had come directly 
 from it. His own life was as virtuous as possible, and his 
 sermons directed against all vices. I do not pretend to judge 
 of bis revelations, but it is certain that he predicted things, 
 both to the King and to myself, which no one expected at the 
 time but which all came to pass afterward." 
 
 Savonarola died a martyr to righteousness, justice, purity, 
 liberty. The man who could influence his time as he did, 
 in public and private, — influence the humble and the 
 great, men of all tastes, pursuits, talents ; he who could 
 stop an ambitious king in the full career of conquest and 
 arrest the violence of a wild multitude ; who could estab- 
 lish the form of government for a state ; direct, for a while 
 at least, the current of popular thought, and impress the 
 greatest minds of his time, — he must forever stand as one 
 of the master spirits among men. The power which lifted 
 this simple monk till it made him the inspiration of a 
 nation, the guide of princes, the teacher of artists and phil- 
 osophers, was the strength of moral and religious convic- 
 tions. He believed with his whole soul. In a divided 
 age, he was a whole man. 
 
 " In vain shall Eome her portals bar, 
 And shut from him her saintly prize, 
 Whom, in the world's great calendar, 
 All men shall canonize." 
 
LUTHER AND LOYOLA. 241 
 
 VIII. 
 
 LUTHER AND THE EEFORMATION — LOYOLA 
 AND THE JESUITS. 
 
 § 1. Introduction. Early Life of Luther. — In speaking 
 of Luther and Loyola I describe two heroes of faith, both 
 of them courageous, honest, and devoted to a great cause 
 not their own. This is one scene in the Tragedy of Life ; 
 for the deepest of tragedies is when two persons, par- 
 ties, or churches, equally sincere and good, regard each 
 other as foes, finding it impossible to understand each 
 other or to be reconciled with each other. In such cases, we 
 who stand outside the struggle, or who come later on the 
 scene, ought to try to do justice to them all, and to recog- 
 nize the truth and the good on both sides ; for final peace 
 will never come except in this way. False moderation 
 sets itself apart to criticise and to point out the i'aults of 
 each. True moderation tries to put itself in the place of 
 both, look from each point of view, and see tlie trutli on 
 both sides. This is what I shall attempt to do in speaking 
 of Luther and Loyola. 
 
 More tlian three centuries removed from the Lutheran 
 Reformation, we ought to be able to attain to sometliing of 
 this impartiality. It is true that we are mostly Protestants, 
 educated in Protestant traditions. 1 am by full conviction, 
 no less tlian by education, a Protestant. I believe that the 
 Reformation of Lutlier was necessary, indispensable to liu- 
 man progress, and the fruitful source of the best civilization 
 
 16 
 
242 EVENTS AND EPOCHS IN RELIGIOUS HISTORY. 
 
 of our time. I have certainly no sympathy with the talk 
 about the " Failure of Protestantism." Yet when I see the 
 Roman Catholic Church, after all these centuries of conflict, 
 vigorous, expansive, active, and commanding the grateful 
 love and loyalty of vast multitudes, I am convinced that 
 it also must hold in trust for humanity some vital and 
 necessary truths. Whatever continues to live, lives by 
 the truth which it contains, not by its errors ; therefore I 
 must conclude that if Protestantism sees one side of 
 Christian truth, the Roman Catholic Church sees another. 
 When either shall fully see and assimilate the good there 
 is in the other party, it will conquer the other ; but con- 
 quer it by uniting with it. Then the Church will be one, 
 and the world will at last be brought to God throuoh Christ. 
 This is said because we shall be obliged in this lecture to 
 touch on questions about which men are still divided. 
 
 Martin Luther was born at Eisleben, in Saxony, Nov. 10, 
 1483 , the same year with the painter, Raffaelle. He was 
 a few years older than Henry VIII. of England and 
 Francis I. of France. He came about thirty-five years 
 after the invention of printing, and nine years before the 
 discovery of America by Columbus. His father was poor 
 and by trade a miner, an honest man, and of a firm char- 
 acter. He sent his son to school at Eisenach, where a 
 kind widow. Dame Ursula, took pity on the boy who 
 wandered through the streets singing for a support. She 
 maintained him at school four years. In 1501 he entered 
 the University of Erfurt. He was a serious, earnest youth. 
 In the college library he found a Bible, a book before un- 
 known to him, and studied it with his whole heart. 
 
 In 1505, when twenty-two years old, his most intimate 
 friend Alexis was found dead in his bed ; and he himself 
 about the same time just escaped a bolt of lightning 
 which struck a tree near him. It is noticeable that men 
 
LUTHER AND LOYOLA. 243 
 
 of strong will oftun ueed some such outward event to 
 bring about an inward crisis. So Paul was converted by 
 a great light from heaven ; so Augustine l)y a voice chant- 
 ing to him: "Take up and read; take up and read!" 
 These events produced a deep impression (jn tlie mind of 
 Luther. This world, with its pleasures, its society, its 
 labors, its studies, seemed to him as vanity and less than 
 nothing. The world to come, that terrible world of strict 
 and fearful retribution, of which his father had spoken to 
 his childhood ; a God angry with his sins ; a soul to be 
 saved or lost, — these ideas wholly engrossed him. If 
 there was formal error, there was substantial truth in such 
 thoughts. Why hesitate ? There is a narrow way which 
 leads to life; and that way, according to the universal 
 opinion of the time, led through the cloister. He re- 
 nounced the world and became an Augustinian monk. 
 His father, John Luther, disapproved of this. When did 
 any strong father approve of the course of his strong 
 sons ? In his convent Luther faithfully tried all that 
 monkish austerities could do to save his soul. He went 
 about the streets begging for the monastery ; he performed 
 the most menial oilices about the house ; he fasted whole 
 days; he watched whole nights, repeating ])rayers. All 
 this brought hiiu no i)eace, but rather increased his per- 
 plexity and sadness of spirit. His conscience troubled 
 him more and more. But now he was to find the cure in 
 Christ's teaching of forgiveness of sins, and the doctrine 
 of Justification by Faith. An old monk came into his 
 cell one day as he was overwhelmed with despair, and 
 after listening to his doubts repeated simjdy the words of 
 the Creed : " I believe in the forgiveness of sins !" Lutlier 
 answered : " I believe in the forgiveness of sins !" "Ah," 
 said the monk, " you must not merely believe that David's 
 sins and Peter's sins are forgiven; the devils believe that; 
 
244 EVENTS AND EPOCHS IN RELIGIOUS HISTORY. 
 
 you must believe that Martin Luther's sins are forgiven." 
 How sweet did this doctrine appear to him. But he ob- 
 tained light especially from Staupitz, vicar-general of the 
 Augustines for Germany. Staupitz taught Luther from 
 his own experience the doctrine of Faith in God's love 
 which pardons sins. " Oh, my sins, my sins ! " said Lu- 
 ther one day to Staupitz in an accent of despair. " Do 
 you despair," answered he, " because you are a real sinner ? 
 If you were not a real sinner, you would not have a real 
 Savior." Now, too, Luther began to read the Scriptures 
 more diligently, and especially Paul's epistles to the Eo- 
 mans and the Galatians. He also read Augustine, and the 
 writings of Erasmus, Tauler, and others. He was ordained 
 priest ; and seeing the Host carried in procession, the 
 thought that it was God himself, who was being borne 
 before him, struck him with a deadly fear. Then Staupitz 
 whispered in his ear : " It is not Christ who terrifies you. 
 Christ does not terrify, he consoles." 
 
 § 2. Luther at Wittenberg. His doctrine of Justification. 
 — Frederick the Wise, Elector of Saxony, had lately 
 founded a university at Wittenberg. By the recommen- 
 dation of Staupitz, Frederick appointed Luther a professor ; 
 and he was also made preacher in the church of the place. 
 Here he had an opportunity of setting forth his great 
 doctrine that we are justified by faith and not by works ; and 
 as this doctrine may be regarded as lying at the root of the 
 Eeformation, let us consider its meaning more precisely. 
 
 By misunderstanding the word " justification " and mak- 
 ing it equivalent to " salvation ; " by misunderstanding 
 the word "faith" and making it equivalent to the "belief 
 of doctrines," — a great truth has been changed into a 
 great absurdity. The doctrine then becomes equivalent 
 to this statement, that man is finally saved in conse- 
 quence of his opinions rather than his character. Neither 
 
LUTHER AND LOYOLA. 245 
 
 Paul, Augustine, or Luther ever taught such a doctrine as 
 this. Their teaching is very different. By Justification 
 they mean not future salvatic^n but present i)ardon ; by 
 Faith they mean not intellectual belief but trust in God. 
 The question they propose to answer is this : "When man 
 Ixicomes conscious of his sinfulness, mourns his separation 
 from God, feels the diiUculty of keei)ing liis resolutions 
 and of living a holy life, how shall he obtain peace, pardon, 
 and union with God ? " The Jewisli law answered : By 
 ()l)edieuce and the influence of certain sacrifices. The 
 Komish Church answered : By confession, penance, and 
 absolution. Moralists answer : By reforming your char- 
 acter and doing good actions. To an earnest and conscien- 
 tious mind these are all found to be insufficient. The 
 Jewish sacrifices could not make the comers thereunto 
 perfect, '* for then would they not have ceased to be offered ? 
 — because the worsliippers, once purged, would have had 
 no more conscience of sin." They produced a transient, 
 not a permanent peace. The penances of the Bomish 
 Church, even when accompanied with the formal absolu- 
 tion of tlie priest, are not always sufficient to relieve the 
 conscience ; for, even tliough one believes ever so firndy 
 in the right of the priest to absolve, there is always the 
 possibility of doubting wliether the penitent has fulfilled 
 the conditions on wliich absolution was given. Still less 
 can moral actions and struggles to obey produce peace, for 
 these are always imperfect and can never appear satisfac- 
 tory to the penitent himself. The more earnest he is, the 
 more does he perceive the deficiencies of his own efforts 
 Therefore tlie only way to attain pardon and inward rest is 
 to receive it as a gift from God without the intervention 
 of priest or ceremony. By coming to God at once, by 
 faith in his promise of pardon tlirougli Christ, and relying 
 on that manifestation of love to the sinner which he has 
 
246 EVENTS AND EPOCHS IN RELIGIOUS HISTORY. 
 
 made in Christ, — this serenity of the soul can be attained, 
 this reconciliation with God secured. 
 
 This doctrine of Justification by Taith, learned by Lu- 
 ther from his own deep experience and not from books 
 or men, contains the germ of the Eeformation. Tliis is 
 its positive principle. The sufficiency of the Scriptures, 
 and the right of ^^rivate judgment, are merely inferences 
 from it, and are in fact negative principles. Though very 
 important, they are secondary to the doctrine of an im- 
 mediate access to God's love. Logically and historically 
 they are secondary. Luther did not begin by denying 
 tlie authority of the Church and claiming the right of 
 private judgment, and then, using this right, discover the 
 doctrine of Justification by Faith; but because he had 
 first acquired faith in God's free gi'ace, he denied the 
 Church's claims which interfered between his soul and 
 God. It was not a desire for intellectual freedom, it was 
 not opposition to Church authority, which was the spring 
 of the Eeformation, but specific resistance to that doctrine 
 of Indulgences which seemed to Luther to overthrow en- 
 tirely the doctrine of Justification ; for if a man could 
 be justified by buying an Indulgence, he did not need to 
 be justified by Faith. 
 
 § 3. Luther opposes the sale of Indulgences. He appears 
 hefore the Diet of Worms. — The sale of Indulgences at 
 first was comparatively an innocent thing. The penances 
 inflicted by the Church as temporal punishments were 
 commuted by the payment of a fine; but in order to be 
 forgiven, repentance and faith were considered necessary. 
 The money thus obtained was spent for the relief of tlie 
 poor, or for building churches ; but it proved so profitable 
 a source of income to the Eomish See that soon its prin- 
 cipal revenue was derived from it, and then it was taught 
 that sin could be atoned for at once by the payment of 
 
LUTHEU AND LOYOLA. 247 
 
 money. The doctrine wa.s that Christ and the saints had 
 done an extra amount of good works, — more than was 
 necessary for their own salvation, — and tliat tliis super- 
 fluous stock of goodness was passed to the credit of the 
 Churcli, and could be transferred by tlie priesthood to any 
 person to wliom tliey chose to sell it. Tetzel, the Do- 
 minican monk who travelled through Germany to sell 
 Indulgences while Lutlier was preaching and lecturing 
 at Wittenberg, carried this abuse to its height. 
 
 Bidbre we come to this controversy about Indulgences, 
 which was the breaking out of the Reformation, we must 
 refer to Luther's previous history. He now preached at 
 Wittenberg in an old wooden chapel, thirty feet by twenty, 
 whose walls were propped to keep them from falling. 
 From a pulpit made of rude planks he spoke in words 
 of eloquent persuasion to the hearts of many. " When 
 Christ came," says a contemporary, " it pleased God that 
 he should be born in a manger ; and now when he comes 
 again, and is born a second time, it is in this rude enclo- 
 sure." Take this example of his style of preaching. His 
 text was on one occasion the first commandment : " Thou 
 shalt have no other gods before Me." He went on thus : — 
 
 "All the sons of Adam are idolaters. There are two kinds 
 of Idolatry, — the one in outward action ; the other in our 
 hearts. By the outward, mau worships wood and stone, reptiles 
 or stars. By the inward, man, not rendering outward homage 
 to the creature, yet in his heart loves it and trusts in it. You 
 do not bend the knee before riches and honor, but in your 
 heart you worship them. You give them your heart, the 
 noblest part of your nature. Alas ! with your bodies you 
 worship God, and with your spirits the creature." 
 
 In 1510, Luther was sent to liome on affairs of his 
 Order. There he saw with his own eves the disorders 
 
248 EVENTS AND EPOCHS IN RELIGIOUS HISTORY. 
 
 which had crept into the heart of the Church, — saw con- 
 vents full of indolent and luxurious monks ; saw the Pope, 
 Julius II., the man of war who swore at God for sfivino- the 
 victory to the French troops, and said : " Holy Swiss ! pray 
 for us ! " There Lutlier saw the priests hurrying through 
 their Masses and expressing atheistical sentiments in the 
 midst of the most solemn services. There he heard that 
 murderers and sensualists had occupied the papal throne ; 
 and he carried away an acquaintance with the real state of 
 things which he always felt was invaluable, " I would not," 
 he afterwards said, " for a hundred tliousand florins have 
 missed seeing Kome. If I had not seen it myself, I might 
 have been troubled lest I had been unjust to the Pope." 
 
 After his return to Germany he was very busy in his 
 various pursuits until the year 1517, when Tetzel arrived 
 with his Induloences. We all have heard of his outrafj^e- 
 ous proceedings. It was more than Luther could bear; 
 and fixing his ninety-five theses to the door of the church, 
 Oct. 31, 1517, he by that action made an epoch in history 
 and the commencement of a new era for man. 
 
 Following up this act Luther wrote against Indulgences 
 and their sale, and his pamphlets spread quickly through 
 Germany. The art of printing, invented so short a time 
 before, seemed sent by Providence to aid in the Eeforma- 
 tion. He wrote a pamphlet addressed to Leo X. ; but Leo, 
 who at first said : " Brother Martin is a pretty good fellow," 
 and treated the matter lightly, at last saw that it was grow- 
 ing serious, and in 1518 cited Luther to appear at Eome 
 in sixty days to answer for his heresies; or, failing thereof, 
 to be excommunicated. Frederic of Saxony, Lutlier's 
 patron, contrived to have his examination held at Augs- 
 burg by the Papal Legate, Cajetan, instead of at Eome. 
 The Legate was mild, but insisted peremptorily that Luther 
 should retract and submit to the Church, which he as 
 
LUTHER AND LOYOLA. 249 
 
 steadily refused ; so the conference came to nothing. The 
 Legate asked : " Where, if you do not submit, can you 
 remain in safety ? " Luther answered : " Under Heaven ! " 
 
 After tliis the ro})e demanded Lutliur of tlie Elector 
 Frederic, who hesitated and procrastinated until, by the 
 deatli of tlie Emperor of Germany and his own appoint- 
 ment as Imi)erial Vicar, Frederic became so powerful that 
 the Tope could not comi)el him to obey. Martin Luther 
 then wrote his book on the " Babylonish Captivity," in 
 wliich he taught tliat Christ was kept a prisoner at Kome. 
 Then tlie Pope issued a Bull of Excommunication, and 
 Lutlier publicly burned it at the city gates. This was in 
 1520. With incredible industry he continued to publish 
 book after book, all written with an energy and fiie which 
 caused them to be everywhere read. All the printers and 
 booksellers were on the side of Luther, and helped to 
 circulate his writings. 
 
 Li the following year, 1521, Charles V., now Emperor, 
 summoned Luther to the Imperial Council of Princes 
 of the German Empire, holding their Diet at Worms, to 
 answer the charges against him. IIuss and Jerome, a 
 hundred years before, having had a safe-conduct from the 
 Emperor like that now offered to Luther, had been burned 
 in spite of it by the Council of Constance. Luther never- 
 theless went to Worms, saying : " I will go to Worms 
 though there should be as many devils there as there are 
 tiles on the roofs of the houses." He went, and before the 
 Emperor and princes, he gave his reasons in clear strong 
 and cogent language, first in German and then in Latin. 
 They replied : " We want no reasons, but short answers. 
 Will you recant ? Yes or no ? " Then Luther uttered the 
 memorable words : — 
 
 ** I vrill give an answer, — an answer without teeth or 
 horns. This is my answer : Convince me by clear proofs of 
 
250 EVENTS AND EPOCHS IN RELIGIOUS HISTORY. 
 
 Scripture and sufficient reasons, and I submit. The popes and 
 councils have often erred. I cannot deny plain Scripture at 
 their command. It is not safe nor wise to act against one's 
 conscience. Here I stand ; I cannot do otherwise ; God help 
 me, — Amen." 
 
 The Spaniards were for burniDg him, and advised the 
 Emperor Charles V., then only twenty years old, to that 
 effect, using the maxim that no faith need be kept with 
 heretics ; but the honest German blood in the veins of 
 Charles revolted against this perfidy, and he said : " If 
 truth is to be found nowhere else in the world it ought to 
 be found in the German Emperors." So Luther went away 
 in safety ; but Frederic of Saxony, fearing that he should 
 not be able much longer to protect him, had him secretly 
 carried to the Castle of Wartburg. There he translated 
 the Bible, and inundated Germany with his writings. His 
 boldness increased continually. He attacked not only the 
 papal authority, but the doctrines of Purgatory, Indul- 
 gences, Invocation of Saints, Eelics, Confession, the Seven 
 Sacraments, and Transubstantiation. 
 
 His opinions spread far and wide. Princes and people 
 gave in their adherence to them. He returned to Witten- 
 berg and from there, as a centre, acted in all directions in 
 organizing the Protestant churches. 
 
 He was now forty years old. Up to this time his suc- 
 cess had been wonderful What councils and princes had 
 tried in vain to do, he had accomplished. He had checked 
 in mid career that mighty spiritual power before which 
 kingdoms and monarchs had quailed. Now he met with 
 troubles. The Keformation escaped from his hands. Ul- 
 traists went beyond him, and brought disgrace on his 
 doctrines by carrying them out to extravagant conclusions. 
 He struggled like a hero against his swarming opponents. 
 The cool and sharp-witted Erasmus got the better of him 
 
LUTIIEll AND l.uVoLA. 251 
 
 in a controversy about Free Will. With Carlstadt, one of 
 the earliest reformers, he disputed long and earnestly about 
 image-breaking and antinomianism. With Zwingle and 
 his party lie disputed about the Lord's Supper. Next 
 came the Wars of the Peasants. The world seemed turncid 
 upside down. Then followed the outbreak of the Anabaj)- 
 tists at ]\lunster, with their immoralities and excesses. 
 Liberty had become license ; but not the less he labored on 
 in faith and prayer. 
 
 In 1525 Luther did a very courageous action. He, a 
 priest and monk, married, — and he married a nun who 
 had left her convent. That a priest should have illegiti- 
 mate children was in that age considered no very grave 
 offence ; the popes had many ; but that a priest should 
 marry was thought a terrible crime. Luther never re- 
 gretted it. " 1 am not devoured with love for my wife," 
 said he ; " I simply love her." This wife was beautiful 
 and good, and his letters to her are marked with a plaj^ful 
 affection. 
 
 So he lived, so labored a little while longer amid the 
 stormy years ; but he did not survive to see the beginning 
 of the Keligious Wars which desolated Germany for so long 
 a period, and those later terrible ones in which the cruel 
 Tilly, Wallenstein, and Gustavus Adolphus gained alter- 
 nate victories over each other in the name of Christ. 
 Then, in the name of Christ, cities were sacked and burnt, 
 men, women, and children cruelly tortured, and many a 
 peaceful State turned into a desolate wilderness. Hapi)ily, 
 Luther did not live to see these things. He died at Eisleben, 
 where he was born, the very year that the first Religious 
 War began. It was in February, 1546, that he was sud- 
 denly taken away, in the sixty-third year of his age. 
 
 None but those blinded by prejudice and party-spirit 
 can deny the heroic greatness and sincere })icty of Lutlier's 
 
252 EVENTS AND EPOCHS IN RELIGIOUS HISTORY. 
 
 character. There have been men of larger intellect, 
 greater subtlety, comprehensiveness, depth, — men whose 
 virtues have been more serene, pure, and Christ-like ; but 
 where shall we find another whose thoughts were like 
 actions, whose words rang like blows, who had such strong 
 sense and genial freshness, and such depth of conviction ? 
 
 § 4. Results of his labors. The Protestant Reformation a 
 necessity and a blessing. — Immense results followed from 
 the labors of Luther. It is the custom now for many not 
 Eoman Catholics to decry the Lutheran Eeformation ; but 
 even Koman Catholics have often admitted that some 
 Eeformation of the Church and of the papacy was neces- 
 sary, — and in what other way could it have taken place ? 
 "Ah! but," say some, "the Church should have heen 
 reformed from within ; Luther should not have separated 
 from it." The practical question to be answered by his- 
 tory is, — Could it have been so reformed ? I think we 
 have evidence enough that it could not. 
 
 The evils and scandals of the papacy had long before 
 reached their acme ; numerous attempts had been made to 
 correct them, but in vain. There were two, three, and 
 even four popes at one time claiming the papacy; and this 
 schism lasted forty years. As long before as the twelfth 
 century St. Bernard, in stern words, denounced the enor- 
 mities committed at the papal court and in the Cath- 
 olic Church, in such language as this : " All justice is 
 annihilated ; the episcopal office has sunk into contempt ; 
 the guilt is laid on thee, Pope Victor, and thy court." 
 Later he addressed Pope Eugenius thus : " You, who were 
 ordained to be the shepherd of souls, go about dressed in 
 gold and jewels ; you are better suited to be a shepherd 
 of devils than of sheep ; you stand in Peter's place, yet 
 you are a fitter successor of Constantine than of Peter." 
 Bernard also testified against the Church which professes 
 
LUTHER AND LOYOLA. 253 
 
 to be spotless, tlie Ih-idc of Christ: "A fatal pestilence lias 
 gone tlirougli the wJKjle Chmch-body. You call yourselves 
 servants of Christ ; you are rather servants of Anticln-ist ! " 
 lioniface VIII. (1294) had two swords carried Ijcfore liiiii 
 on Palm Sunday as a sign of his temporal supremacy as 
 well as spiritual, and called out : '' Eccc duo (jbuld; I am 
 Pope ami I am Emperor." So the evils of the Church 
 constantly increased till the time of Luther. Seventy 
 shameful crimes were })rove(l against the Pope John XXIII. 
 and he was deposed. In 1425 the famous Cardinal Peter 
 of Ailly wrote a hook on the Keformation of the Church, 
 in which he declared it was becoming more corrupt con- 
 tinually. At last, in the papal families and among the 
 cardinals, tlie greatest ciimes became frequent. Innocent 
 VIII. (141)2) had sixteen sons and daughters. He had also 
 a secret alliance with the Turkish Sultan while he sold In- 
 dulgences under pretence of a campaign against him. After 
 him came Pope Alexander VI., one of the worst men that 
 ever lived. Then followed Julius II., of whose time the 
 Italian head of the Carmelites said that all things at 
 Pome were venal, that priests, sacrifices, and prayers were 
 all bouirht and sold. 
 
 Protestantism did not begin with Martin Luther. It 
 had louff existed within the Church. We have seen how 
 the great Bernard denoimced the sins of Pome and the 
 papacy in his day, though he was the most devoted of 
 Roman Catholics; how Savonarola also thundered from 
 his ])ul])it in tlie Cathedral of Florence against the crimes 
 of prelates, and sjnritual wickedness sitting in the chair of 
 Peter ; but these were only more striking examples of the 
 efforts which had long been made by those within the 
 Church to reform it. Such efforts had existed for centuries 
 as an included Protestantism ; after Luther they became 
 an excluded Protestantism. 
 
254 EVENTS AND EPOCHS IN RELIGIOUS HISTORY. 
 
 The evils which corrupted the Church existed in the 
 papal court, in the morals of the secular priests, and in 
 the condition of the monks. The evils of the papacy had 
 become so great that in the time of the Warrior Pope, 
 Julius II., the King of France, Louis XII., stamped on his 
 coins a threat to overthrow the power of Eome, which he 
 called Babylon. He prepared to make war on the Pope, 
 and obtained the opinion of the clergy of France that he 
 had a right to do so. Many attempts were made to call 
 General Councils to depose a bad pope, but they were 
 usually unsuccessful. Sixtus IV. laid an interdict on 
 Florence, but the clergy of Florence appealed to a General 
 Council and declared his interdict null and void, and the 
 Pope was obliged to yield ; yet shortly after, the worst of 
 popes, Alexander VI., was able to torture and execute Sa- 
 vonarola in the great Square of Florence. 
 
 The religious orders, at first so self-sacrificing, fell 
 into corruption. The attempts to reform their convents 
 usually failed. The monks sometimes resisted the bish- 
 ops and the papal legates by open force. At the refor- 
 mation of the Benedictine convent in Hildesheim, John 
 Busch, having expelled an insubordinate monk, the monk's 
 brother sent him a challenge. In 1470, thirteen years 
 before Luther's birth, the Duke of Lunenburg and the 
 bishop having attempted to reform a convent, the monks 
 attacked them and put them to flight. The nuns resisted 
 with similar violence, and when the reforming bishop 
 arrived they sang a hymn of malediction against him. 
 These monks and nuns violated their vows. They lived 
 in luxury, dividing the incomes of the convents among 
 themselves. Of the greater horrors and wickedness prac- 
 tised by the popes, the monks, and the priests in the 
 fourteenth and fifteenth centuries, I cannot speak. At- 
 tempts to reform the Church from within had proved so 
 
LUTHER AND LOYOLA. 255 
 
 unsuccessful that it seemed iuevitaldu that the reform must 
 come from without, and this metliud succeeded. As soon 
 as the Protestant Clmrch arose the lloman Catholic Church 
 was made better. 
 
 Undoubtedly when we ask why it was that Luther was 
 enabled to accomplish that which Wickliffe, IIuss, Savon- 
 arola and so many others failed of effecting, and which so 
 many princes and councils had in vain essayed, we ought 
 to take into consideration the many favorable circumstances 
 which concurred and worked with him. It was no doubt 
 in the interest of many German princes to free their land 
 from the countless exactions caused by the demands of the 
 papal courts, by which the people were impuverished and 
 their own revenues abridged ; no doubt also the field had 
 been made white fur tlie harvest by the labors of Luther's 
 predecessors ; but, after all, Luther's personality was very 
 necessary too. If the Man could have done nothing witli- 
 out the fortunate Hour, the Hour would have passed un- 
 used unless the Man had appeared. Luther had his faults; 
 but he will remain one of the greatest men of modern 
 times, and also one of the noblest. The meaner sort 
 among his opponents have poured out slanders against his 
 name ; but their libels pass away like the vapors which 
 steam up to obscure the sun. His greatest fault perhaps 
 was in giving a kind of half-consent to one of the leading 
 Protestant princes to divorce his wife and marry agaia 
 Some injudicious Protestants have attempted to excuse this 
 act; but Bayle justly says "that the only thing to say to 
 the Koman Catholic who brings this charge is first, that 
 Luther did very wrong in idlowing the divorce ; and second, 
 that the popes have committed far more enormous sins; 
 and that, therefore, if this fault proves that Luther was 
 not an instrument in God's hands to reform the Church 
 and preach the trutlj, it proves more conclusive!}'- that the 
 
256 EVENTS AND EPOCHS IN RELIGIOUS HISTORY. 
 
 popes cannot be vicars of Christ and the living omcles of 
 his Church." 
 
 The character of Luther had a mountainous grandeur. 
 When near Mont Blanc you perceive the ragged preci- 
 pices and shapeless ravines which deform it; but as you 
 recede from it into the distance it appears to tower higher 
 and higher above its neighboring summits, its features are 
 softened by the intervening atmosphere and melted into 
 stranae tints and beautiful shadows, and it stands the ob- 
 ject of reverence and wonder, — one of the most sublime 
 objects in nature, and most beautiful creations of God. 
 So stands Luther, growing more and more the mark of 
 reverence through succeeding centuries, — the real author 
 of modern liberty of thought and action, the giant founder 
 of modern civilization, pure religion, and a more wide- 
 spread virtue than those which earlier ages were capable of 
 producing.^ 
 
 § 5. Character of Luther. Extracts from his Writings 
 and Conversation. — This great power lay in his personality. 
 He was, in the deepest deep of his soul, a believer in 
 truth. His wliole soul was steeped in reality. His eye 
 was single, and liis whole body was full of light. He was 
 a city set on a hill that could not be hid. He was unable 
 
 1 His treatment of the Jews shows his breadth of thought. Regarding 
 them he writes in his treatise, "That Jesus was a Jew by Birth," 1523: 
 " Our fools — the papists, bishops, sophists, monks — have hitherto so dealt 
 with the Jews that whoever was a good Christian would much rather have 
 turned Jew; and if I had been a Jew, and had seen the Christian faith 
 governed by such blockheads {toclpel) and dolts, I would rather have 
 turned swine [sau) than Christian; for they have treated the Jews as 
 though they were dogs, not human beings; could do no more than scold- 
 ing them. Thej-, the Jews, are blood-relations, cousins and brothers of 
 our Lord; therefore, if we make any boast. of blood and flesh, the Jews 
 belong more [are more nearly related] to Christ than we. I beg, there- 
 fore, of my dear papists, whenever they shall be tired of calling me a 
 heretic that they may begin to call me a Jew." 
 
LUTHER AND LOYOLA. 257 
 
 to understand sucli a man as Erasmus, wliu believed and 
 yet doubted, wlio believed and yet did not utter his belief. 
 Luther's force was in this awiul earnestness which made 
 thoughts things to him ; so that it was not he who spoke, 
 but the truth itself which thundered i'mm his lips, — the 
 fact which stood visibly before your eyes, lie was so 
 possessed and filled by his thoughts that all personal 
 considerations disai)peared. He took no credit, no blame 
 for what he said. In this tremenduus energy of convic- 
 tion he spoke as one having authority, and was able alone 
 to balance and outweigh the Universal Church, the deci- 
 sions of councils, and the established opinions and usages 
 of a thousand years. When the pope excommunicated him, 
 he excommunicated the pope, and the one excommunica- 
 tion seemed as valid as the other. Thus he spoke in re})ly 
 to what he called the Bull of Antichrist. 
 
 "If this Bull has been prepared with the knowledge of the 
 pope and cardinals, I, then, by virtue of the power which I re- 
 ceived in baptism, making me a child of God and a joint-heir 
 with Christ, counsel you in the Lord that you repent and 
 speedily make an end of these devilish atrocities, of these too 
 daring impieties. Otherwise, with all true servants of Christ, 
 I shall hold your seat to be that of Antichrist, possessed by 
 the spirit of Evil ; and if you persevere ohstinatel}' in your 
 madness, I anathematize you, and give you over, with tliis 
 your Bull and all your decretals, to Satan." 
 
 The world must have listened with wonder to words 
 like these, and held its breath for the result of this sin- 
 gular contest, in which the weight of power, precedent, 
 usage, and numbers, was all on one side, and merely the 
 authority of strong conviction on the other. 
 
 Nothing which Luther has written shows the depth of 
 his convictions more than his prayer at Worms ; it seems 
 poured from the very depths of his soul ; he is alone with 
 
 17 
 
258 EVENTS AND EPOCHS IN EELIGIOUS HISTORY, 
 
 God while uttering it. I give the following translation of 
 a part of it : — 
 
 " almighty, eternal God ! What a thing is this world ! How 
 do the people speak against thee ! How little is their confidence 
 in God ! How weak and tender is the flesh ; how strong and 
 busy the Devil with his apostles and worldly-wise men. How 
 they run down the broad way to Hell where the impious be- 
 long, and only look at what is great and mighty and has a lofty 
 appearance. If I should turn my eyes that way all would be 
 over with me. The clock has then struck ; the judgment is 
 over. Ah God ! Ah God ! my God, stand by me ! thou, 
 my God, help me against all the wisdom and reason of this 
 world. Do it thou ; for thou must do it, thou alone ! It is thy 
 cause ; it is not mine ! I have nothing to do here with these 
 great lords. Oh, how glad I should be to go back and have 
 quiet peaceful da^^s. But it is thy cause, God who art just 
 and infinite. Help me, thou just and infinite God ! I confide 
 in no man. It is vain ; it is vanity ; it is nothing, — all flesh 
 is but flesh. God, God ! Dost thou hear me, God ] Art 
 thou dead 1 No! thou canst not die ; thou only hidest thyself 
 a little. Give me a proof if thou hast chosen me for this work ; 
 for I never thought to stand before such great lords. I did 
 not undertake it myself Come, my God ! I am ready. I 
 will go like a little lamb, for the cause is just and is thine." 
 
 With all this deep earnestness, there is a genial love of 
 nature, a playfulness, and sometimes a humor not uncom- 
 mon in earnest natures. 
 
 "I lately saw," said Luther, "two signs in the heavens. 
 I looked from my window in the middle of the night, and 
 saw the stars and all the majestic vault of God sustaining 
 itself, without my being able to perceive the pillars on which 
 the Creator had propped it. Nevertheless it crumbled not 
 away. There are those who search for these pillars, and 
 who would fain touch them with their hands ; but not beine: 
 
LUTHER AND LOYOLA. 259 
 
 able to find tliem they lament, and four tlie heavens will fall. 
 They might touch them ; the heavens would never be moved. 
 Again, I saw great lieavy clouds, floating over n)y head like 
 the ocean. I saw no prop to sustain them; and still they fell 
 not, but saluted us sadly and passed on ; and as tliey j)assed 
 1 distinguished an arch which upheld them, — a splendid rain- 
 bow. Slight it was, without doubt, and delicate ; one could 
 not but tremble for it under such a mass of clouds. So with 
 us and our opponents. Our rainbow is weak ; their clouds are 
 heavy ; but the end will tell the strength of the bow." 
 
 Luther's belief in the Devil was very strong, as is ofteu 
 the case in strong natures. They like to give objectivity 
 to their doubts and temptations, and to have a personal and 
 almost visible opponent with whom to contend. It is well 
 known that Luther threw his inkstand at the Devil's head in 
 Wartburg, and the spot of ink is still shown on the wall. 
 
 "Once," he says, "in our monastery at Wittenberg, I dis- 
 tinctly heard the Devil making a noise. As I sat down and 
 began to study, the Devil came and made a noise behind my 
 stove as though he would drag it aw\ay. At last, as he woidd 
 not stop, I put my books by and went to bed. Another night 
 I heard him overhead, but perceiving it was the Devil I paid 
 no attention, and went to sleep again. This morning when I 
 awoke, the Devil said to me, * Thou art a sinner.' T answered 
 *Tell me something new, Devil, I knew that before.' He con- 
 tinued, 'What have you done with the monasteries'?' I replied, 
 'What's that to thee'? thy accursed worship goes on as ever.' 
 The Devil sometimes casts me into such despair that I hardly 
 know whether there is a God. He 'sets the law, sin, and death 
 before my eyes, compels me to ponder on this trinity, and 
 so torments me. He has sworn my death, but he will crack a 
 hollow nut. When the Devil comes to me at night I give him 
 these and the like answers, and say, 'Devil, I must now sleep, 
 for this is God's command, to labor by tlay and sleep by uiuht.' 
 Then, if he charge me with being a sinner, I say, to spite him : 
 
260 EVENTS AND EPOCHS IN RELIGIOUS HISTORY. 
 
 'Holy Satan ! pray for me,' or 'Physician, heal thyself!' The 
 Devil hates to be laughed at ; he is of a melancholy disposition, 
 and cheerful music soon puts him to flight." 
 
 Like other prophets, in whom courage is often joined 
 with self-distrust, Luther sometimes expresses his reluc- 
 tance to do the work allotted to him. In the prayer at 
 AYorms above quoted, he says how glad he should be to 
 go back to his quiet and peaceful days. So we have seen 
 Jeanne d'Arc, in the midst of her triumphal success, long 
 to go back to her humble home and her sheep. So the 
 prophets of the Old Testament, men wuth souls of fire and 
 nerves of steel, tried to excuse themselves from their w^ork, 
 and asked the Lord to send some one else in their place. 
 In his " Table-talk " Luther says : " If I could have fore- 
 seen all I have had to do, ten horses could not have drawn 
 me to this preaching." 
 
 When we think of what Luther accomplished, we are 
 amazed at the wonderful power there may be in one hu- 
 man soul. His traDslation of the Bible, considering the 
 time in which he did it and the few books or scholars he 
 had to help him, is almost a miracle. His clioice of words 
 in translating the Hebrew, I have been told by a learned 
 Jewush scholar, shows a kind of inspiration.^ Luther guessed 
 at meanings which liave only in later years been found to 
 be the true ones. Heine says of Luther : " He translated 
 the Bible from a language which had ceased to exist, into 
 one which had not yet arrived." Heine adds : " Our dear 
 master's thoughts had not only wings but hands ; his faults 
 
 1 My friend Dr. Gottlieil says: "I have often occasion to admire his 
 intuitive guesses at the truth, and to follow him rather than the more 
 learned commentators. He was in fullest sympathy with the writers, and 
 understood them by touch, if I may say so, where sight forsook him. His 
 translation is far superior, in vigor and beauty, to that of the English 
 Vulgate. The latter is the work of bishops and scholars, the former that 
 of a poet and a great original nature." 
 
LUTHER AND LOYOLA. 2G1 
 
 have been more useful to us tlian tlie virtues of better 
 meu ; how Luther got the language into which he trans- 
 lated the Bible is, to this hour, incomprehensible to me." 
 
 Mendelssohn, — himself a master of German style, and 
 classic translator of the Pentateuch and tlie Psalms, — 
 says of Luther : Wo er schlccht iibcrsctzt hat, hat er doch 
 betrcfflich vcrdcittscht, — " Where he has blundered as a 
 translator, he has inimitably Germanized." This expresses 
 the fact exactly. He gave the people a German Bible 
 ,in the full sense of the word. 
 
 In this great warrior, every one of whose words was 
 half a battle, there was a strange tenderness and a strong 
 sense of humor. In Luther's " Table-talk," one of the 
 most charming of autobiogra[)liies, these traits appear. 
 
 Here are some of his conversational utterances : — 
 
 " The heart of a human being is like the stones in a mill ; 
 put coni in, and the stones, going round and round, grind it 
 out ; but if no corn is there, the stones, still going round and 
 round, will grind themselves away." 
 
 " When I go into the pulpit and see the simple ignorant people 
 waiting to be fed, I put no Hebrew, Greek, or Latin into my 
 sermon ; but when Melancthon and I get together, we are so 
 curled and finical with our learning, that God liimself wonders 
 at us." 
 
 Luther's love and admiration for Melancthon were very 
 touching. His own rough nature melted in the presence 
 of Melancthon's gentleness. 
 
 Melancthon's " Commonplace Book " he put next to 
 the Bible. 
 
 " Melancthon has both words and matter ; Erasmus has 
 words but not matter ; Luther has matter but no words ; Carl- 
 stadt has neither words nor matter." 
 
262 EVENTS AND EPOCHS IN RELIGIOUS HISTORY. 
 
 " For my part, I have so often deceived God by promising 
 to be good, that I will promise no more ; but will only pray for 
 a happy hour when it may please the Lord to make me good." 
 
 '' Some one said that the first of the Books of Moses was not 
 written by Moses. Lather answered : ' What matters who 
 wrote it ] It is Moses's book, because it has IMoses's thoughts.' " 
 
 " If you put a globe on a table one point of the table sup- 
 ports the whole globe ; so one sentence of the Lord's Prayer, 
 Our Father in Heaven, supports all our Christian faith. Though 
 I am an old Doctor of Divinity I have not yet perfectly learned 
 that. If I really believed that God who has made all things is 
 my Father, then I should see that I also am Lord of heaven and 
 earth, that Christ is my brother, and the angels my servants." 
 
 We now pass on to consider the great opponent of 
 Luther, the founder of the Company of the Jesuits. 
 
 § 6. Early Life and Conversion of Loyola. — Ignatius 
 Loyola (called in the judicial acts Don Inigo Lopez de 
 Eecaldo) was born in the year 1491, eight years after 
 Luther, in the Province of Biscay, and in the district 
 which lies adjacent to France. This is the region of the 
 Basques, that remarkable people whose language Humboldt 
 thought to be the oldest now spoken on the earth. Loy- 
 ola came of an ancient family, and of a race so noble that 
 its chief was always invited to do homage to his sovereign 
 by a special writ. He was educated at the court of Fer- 
 dinand and Isabella, applying himself to knightly attain- 
 ments, and became distinguished in warlike and literary 
 pursuits. AVhen thirty years old, in defending Pampeluna 
 which was besieged by the French, he was seriously injured 
 in his leg by a cannon ball. Of this wound he nearly died, 
 and recovered with the symmetry of his limbs much im- 
 paired. It is said that he bore without murmur a severe 
 surgical operation, in hope of preventing this deformity, 
 
LUTHER AND LOYOLA. 26 
 
 Q 
 
 but in vain, Duriiii^ liis confinement he read tlie lives of 
 the saints, and had liis thoughts and wishes turned into a 
 new channel, lie longed to rival these holy men. lie de- 
 termined to go barefoot to the Holy Land, to clothe himself 
 with sackcloth, and to accomplish greater deeds than had 
 been heretofore done by any saint. In fact his and)ition 
 was as yet merely turned into a new channel ; his heart 
 was not changed. He had experienced neither penitence 
 nor yet the love of a heart whose sins are forgiven. As 
 soon as he was able he left his castle of Loyola and went 
 to Montserrat, a monastery famous for the concourse of 
 pilgrims. On his way he was tempted to pursue and 
 chastise a ^loor who had argued against the immaculate 
 character of the Virgin Mary ; but leaving it to his horse 
 to decide, the peaceable animal turned up the rcjad to the 
 convent. Here Loyola gave his garments to a poor man 
 and his horse to the convent, watched all night in prayer 
 before the altar of the Virgin, and dedicated himself to 
 her service.^ He made a general confession of his sins, 
 whicli lasted three days ; and then departed on foot and in 
 ragged clothes on his way to Jerusalem. Stopping on the 
 way, he performed various penances of the severest char- 
 acter, and finally retired into a cave to pray. Here the 
 sense of his sins began to come again heavily upon his soul; 
 he was tempted to despair, and thought of throwing him- 
 self from the window or opening in the cave. He had 
 now reached the same state of remorse into whicli Luther, 
 a few years before, had been plunged ; but these two men, 
 destined to be the leaders of antagonistic movements, 
 emerged from this region of spiritual sorrow by difierent 
 paths. Luther found his comfort in the words of the 
 Bible, and in Paul's doctrine of Justification by Faith. 
 Loyola, on the other hand, seems to have determined to 
 
 1 March 24, 1522. 
 
264 EVENTS AND EPOCHS IN KELIGIOUS HISTORY. 
 
 put down his remorse by an act of the will. He concluded 
 that such thoughts came from an evil spirit, and he resolved 
 to doubt no more. The outward supports of his resolution 
 were the visions which appeared to him contiuurJly. He 
 imagined he saw the Viroin ; he thouf^ht he saw Christ: 
 he even believed that he beheld the Trinity Avith the eye 
 of the flesh. His faith did not rest either on reason or on 
 Scripture as Luther's did, but he was as ready as Luther 
 to live or die for it. 
 
 From this cave he departed on his pilgrimage to Jeru- 
 salem,^ but did not remain, as the Papal Legate com- 
 manded him to return. He obeved, rememberiuor enouc^h 
 of his military life to place at the head of his virtues the 
 soldier's virtue, Obedience. Eeturning from Jerusalem he 
 began to go through a course of regular study preparatory 
 to preaching, but found it very difficult to turn off his 
 thoughts from spiritual meditations to the details of gram- 
 mar. He persevered, however, till he acquired control 
 over his luental habits. The remarkable effects of his 
 conversations and exhortations on the minds of others 
 caused him to be suspected of magic, Lutheranism, or what 
 was called Hluminatism ; but after an exaniination by the 
 Inquisition he was acquitted. He studied at Alcala, Sala- 
 manca, and Paris. At each of these places he labored to 
 convert the students to a religious life. Some of his early 
 converts at Paris were Peter Faber, Francis Xavier (after- 
 wards the Apostle to the East Indies), and Peter Laynez. 
 They went through the " Spiritual Exercises " with him, 
 and he made them fast three days and nights at a time. 
 Six of these young disciples agreed with Loyola to take a 
 vow to devote themselves to the service of God in any 
 way the Pope might direct. This was the beginning of 
 the order of Jesuits, and this event took place at Paris in 
 
 ^ He reached Jerusalem Sept. 4, 1523. 
 
LUTHER AND LOYOLA. 2G5 
 
 1534, in tlie forty-third year of Loyola's age. They were 
 to finish their studies first, and tlie vow was to take effect 
 in tliree years. 
 
 § 7. The Society of Jcsiis. Its Hlatory and Character. — 
 T)ie Ihde of tlie Society of Jesus, in addition to tlie 
 three vows of poverty, chastity, and obedience, common to 
 all other Catholic Orders, contained a fourth vow l)y which 
 tlie mendjers bound themselves to go to any country wliere 
 the Pope should send them as missionaries. The Kule 
 was approved in 1540, and in the following year Ignatius 
 LK)yoia was elected the first General. 
 
 The body over whom this General presides consists of 
 four classes; the Professed, who, having gone through the 
 other stages, have taken all vows ; the Coadjutors, who 
 assist the Professed in teaching, preaching, and the direc- 
 tion of souls ; the Scholastics, engaged in study or teach- 
 ing ; and the Novices, who spend two years in spiritual 
 exercises, such as prayer and meditation. The Provincials 
 are those who govern the districts, or provinces, under the 
 General, to whom regular reports are made, at regular 
 intervals, of the conduct and cliaracter of tlie mendiers. 
 In all these gradations the subordination is com])lete. 
 Every member of tlie order is required to be in the hands 
 of his superior " like a staff in tlie hands of an old man," 
 or as clay in the hands of the potter. Pcrinde ac si 
 cadaver, — " You are to lie as a corpse," is the demand. 
 The military training of Loyola caused him to constitute 
 his society like soldiers in an army : — 
 
 " Not theirs to reason why, 
 Not theirs to make reply; 
 Theirs but to Jo aiul die." 
 
 The outward and immediate success of the society justi- 
 fied the hopes of its founder and the wisdom of his plans. 
 
266 EVENTS AND EPOCHS IN RELIGIOUS HISTORY. 
 
 At the time of his death the society had thirteen prov- 
 inces, chiefly in Spain, Portugal, and Italy. In 1762 they 
 had forty provinces, twenty-four houses of the professed 
 Jesuits, six hundred and sixty-nine colleges, and twenty- 
 two thousand members. 
 
 The influence of this order was very great. The Jesuits 
 spread over Europe in a few years, taking possession of 
 the pulpits, the schools, and the confessionals. They were 
 most accomplished and popular preachers, and filled anew 
 the deserted churches. They supplanted other priests in the 
 care of consciences, and their schools were filled with the 
 children of all classes; for they taught not only gratui- 
 tously but well. 
 
 " With what vehemence," says Macaulay, " with what pohcy, 
 with what exact disciphne, with what dauntless courage, with 
 what self-denial, with what forgetfulness of the dearest private 
 ties, with what intense and stubborn devotion to a single end, 
 with what unscrupulous laxity and versatility in the choice of 
 means, the Jesuits fought the battles of their Church, is written 
 in every page of the annals of Europe during several genera- 
 tions. The history of the Order of Jesus is the history of the 
 great Catholic reaction against Protestantism in the seven- 
 teenth century." 
 
 The Jesuits encountered great opposition and fierce 
 abuse not from Protestants only but still more from the 
 other Catholic Orders which they supplanted. They were 
 accused of all manner of false beliefs and wicked actions. 
 Some of these charges were well founded, but others were 
 merely due to the jealousy of their rivals. 
 
 The Jesuits engaged with great energy in the cause 
 of missions. In the East Indies, Francis Xavier led the 
 way in 1542, and it is said that he baptized hundreds of 
 thousands. He preached in Goa, Cochin-China, Malacca, 
 
LUTIIEU AND LOYOLA. 2G7 
 
 Ceylon, and Japan, and diod in l~>r>i Jxjforc he reached 
 China. 
 
 lUit the chief trinniphs of the society were in South 
 America, and here Lliey did real good to the Indians, rescu- 
 ing them from a system of slavery under the Spaniards 
 and Portuguese, and uniting them in a civilized com- 
 munity. Tliis especially took place in Paraguay, an exten- 
 sive region of country lying between the Parana and 
 Paraguay rivers. Here they formed their Indian converts 
 into communities, — giving, however, to each family a 
 piece of ground where they could plant their corn, pota- 
 toes, and cotton ; having also laud in which the people 
 worked for the community, the produce of which com- 
 mon land was kept for the old, the sick, and the in- 
 Hrm. The Indians were allowed to choose their pul)lic 
 officers themselves, the Jesuit Rector having a veto. The 
 Indians had religious fraternities, health-officers, autl gar- 
 dens of medicinal herbs. In these communities was dis- 
 covered tlie use of Peruvian Bark, Ions: called Jesuit's 
 Bark, from winch quinine is made. There were about 
 three thousand persons in each community. The houses 
 were built on three sides of a S(|uare, with the cliurch and 
 public buildings on the fourth siile. In each corner of 
 the square was a cross, and in the middle a statue of the 
 Virgin. The Indians married young; they had no care ; 
 they had nothing to do but to obey. The discipline of the 
 Jesuits was conqdete, but not capricious or tyrannical. 
 The cldl hen were taught to read, write, and sing. This 
 race of Guarini Indians was naturally docile, and also 
 naturally musical. "They sing," said the Jesuits, " as the 
 birds do, by nature." They went out to work every day to 
 the sound of flutes, bearing in procession the image of St. 
 Isidore, patron of agricultui-e. There was a time assigned 
 for the children's plays; tlu^y had dances and feasts and 
 
268 EVENTS AND EPOCHS IN RELIGIOUS HISTORY. 
 
 dramatic entertainments. Like most other communities 
 under a religious law, the people were peaceful, happy, 
 and comfortable ; but like other such communities they 
 remained always children, never developing manly quali- 
 ties. When evil days came, and these communities were 
 assailed by their enemies, there was found among them 
 no courage, nor any power to defend themselves ; so they 
 were overthrown and scattered. 
 
 In 1605 Robert de Nobili went to India as a missionary 
 and arrived at Goa, where Xavier had landed sixty-three 
 years before. Xavier, one of the greatest and best of 
 men, had, with untiring zeal, gone through India and 
 Japan, and in ten years had baptized thousands of con- 
 verts ; but they had been baptized rather than converted, 
 and the results of his labors had almost disappeared. 
 Eeflecting on the cause, De Nobili determined to disguise 
 himself as a Brahman and so to get access to the upper 
 class. He carefully learned the language and adopted the 
 dress of a Brahman hermit, or anchorite. The Brahmans 
 came to see liim, but did not detect the imposition. He 
 pretended to be inspired to tell them the true way, and 
 seventy-two Brahmans were baptized by him. When liis 
 course was known at Eome, there arose a great debate as 
 to whether it was rioht to turn Brahman in order to make 
 Christians. Opinions varied. At last tlie Pope gave his per- 
 mission to the Jesuit missionaries to wear the Brahmanical 
 cord, provided it was only meant as a sign of noble birth ; 
 to burn sandal-wood, ])rovided it was merely as a perfume; 
 and to perform the Brahmanical ablutions, provided it was 
 for purposes of cleanliness. The Pope also ordered them 
 to preach to the lower classes ; but this tliey had deter- 
 mined not to do. If they preached to the Pariahs it was 
 secretly, and in the night-time. These Christian Brahmans 
 preserved all their old ceremonies; called on their old gods, 
 
LUTHER AND LOYOLA. 2G9 
 
 Shiva and Krishna and Kiidia ; but every missionary bap- 
 tized at least one tliousand i)ersons every year. It was often 
 done in this way. The Jesuits professed to he pliysicians, 
 and whenever they were called in to a flying })erson would se- 
 cretly baptize him, under the pretence of giving him medical 
 aid. At last the Po])e insisted that the converts should 
 abandon their heathen rites, and that the missionaries 
 sliouhl preach the plain doctrines of the Church. The 
 result was that these Hindoo Christians generally aposta- 
 tized, and went back to Brahmanism. It soon a]»i)eared 
 that Jesuit Christianity in India had no root to it. The 
 Abbd Dubois, himself a Catholic, gives an instance of this 
 in later times. He says that when Tippoo Sahib wished 
 to convert the inhabitants of Mysore to Mohammedanism 
 he began with the Christians, and gave secret ordeis to 
 have them all seized and brought to Seringapntam. The 
 number amounted to sixty thousand. They all aj^ostatized ; 
 not one was willing to be a martyr. 
 
 The decline in the fortunes of the Jesuits was as rapid as 
 their rise. In 1759 tliey were expelled from Portugal and 
 from its vast colonies in South America. In France they 
 were suppressed in 1764, their General liicci having re- 
 fused to modify their constitutions, saying: Si7it lit sunt 
 aut non sint, — " Let them be as they are oi' not be at all." 
 They were suppressed in Spain in 17G7, and the society 
 was dissolved by a bull of Clement XIV. in 1773. The 
 charges against them w^ere of interfering with the govern- 
 ment of nations, prompting to the assassination of rulers, 
 teaching false morality, general duplicity, and organized 
 deceit. The Order was afterward revived, and at the 
 present time may l^e said to control the policy of the 
 Iioman Catholic Church ; but the hostility against it has 
 not diminished. 
 
 The Jesuits have been expelled from Russia (1817), 
 
270 EVENTS AND EPOCHS IN RELIGIOUS HISTORY. 
 
 banished from Switzerland, suppressed in Italy, and ex- 
 cluded from Germany and France. Tiie worst blow, per- 
 haps, which the Order ever received was inflicted by the 
 "Lettres Provinciales " of Blaise Pascal. This brilliant 
 adversary succeeded in making a theological discussion 
 more entertaining than a novel or drama. He exposed in 
 such an amusing way the deceit and subterfuges of the 
 Jesuits, he so mercilessly chastised the immorality taught 
 in their schools and adopted by their confessors, that the 
 effect of his book was irresistible, and its arguments were 
 unanswerable. 
 
 "What is a man profited if he gain the whole world 
 and lose his own soul ?" What is a Church profited if it 
 gain the whole world and lose its own soul ? The Jesuits 
 seemed about to gain the whole world by their adroitness, 
 their suppleness, their energy, their compact and united 
 action, their untiring perseverance, their sacrifice of all 
 personal interests to those of their Order ; but there was 
 always this fatal weakness in the system. It was the 
 Order first, and Truth second, — the Order first, and Chris- 
 tianity afterward. It was being willing to do evil that 
 good might come, and so its condemnation was just. 
 
 Its Day of Judgment came. In every land where the 
 company had prospered the most, — heaped up wealth, 
 guided the policy of empires, controlled the ear of kings, 
 moulded with plastic liand the minds of tlie young and 
 the conscience of the devout, learned the secrets of house- 
 holds and the mysteries of cabinets, — in every such land, 
 sooner or later, came its day of judgment. Tlie princes 
 found they had been deceived ; the people bad learned to 
 hate the Jesuits as the allies of tyrants ; the religious 
 were shocked by their worldliness ; the common human 
 conscience was revolted by their avarice, their ambition, 
 and their want of principle. 
 
LUTIIEU AND LOVOL.V. 271 
 
 No success is lasliii<;- whicli dues iioL rest on the fbuiidii- 
 tion of justice and truth. This is the perpetual lesson of 
 impartial history. Everything has its appropriate reward. 
 The zeal, activity, and sagacity of the Jesuits were re- 
 warded by a long series of triumphs ; but their fjilsehood 
 was also rewarded by ultimate overthrow. They did great 
 things for the world. They taught the arts of civilization 
 to savages and then ruled tlieni with a rod of iron. They 
 introduced the ways of Europe into China and Japan, 
 and then took their reward in every i)rize of office and 
 emolument which they could obtain. The people at last 
 said : " We owe you no gi'atitude, for you are careful to 
 pay yourselves for all you do for us. If you save us from 
 our native tyrants, it is that you may tyrannize over us 
 yourselves." Their course, in this respect, reminds one of 
 a Greek epigram, printed some years since in an English 
 magazine, in the following excellent translation ; — 
 
 " Honey and milk we sacrifice to thee, 
 Kind Hermes, inexpensive Deity ! 
 But Hercules demands a sheep each day 
 For keeping, so he says, the wolves away. 
 Imports it much, meek browsers of the sod, 
 Whether the beast devour you, or the god 1 " 
 
 § 8. IVork of Luther aiid Loyola compared. Results of 
 both. — When Luther died, in 1546, nearly half of Europe 
 had broken away from the Church of Eome, and the rest 
 seemed about to follow. All the nations of Teutonic 
 blood were Protestants. England, Scotland, Denmark, 
 Sweden, Prussia, Saxony, Hesse, Wurtemberg, a part of the 
 Netherlands, had left Pome not to return. France, Italy, 
 and Spain were so permeated with the same spirit that they 
 were half Protestant. Then came the counter revolution 
 of whicli Loyola was tlie great captain ; the advancing tide 
 was checked and the wave of victory stayed. 
 
272 EVENTS AND EPOCHS IN RELIGIOUS HISTORY. 
 
 Luther and Loyola represent two types of men opposite 
 in all their tendencies of thought. Both were deeply 
 religious ; but one believed in the religion of freedom, 
 the other in that of order and law. The one looked for- 
 ward, the other back. It was the eternal, never ending 
 war between the reformer and the conservative ; the man 
 who hopes from change, and the man who fears it. 
 
 The work of Luther was certainly followed by gratifying 
 results even for the Church of Rome. The Protestant 
 Reformation was also a Catholic Reformation. The for- 
 midable and growing opposition from without compelled 
 the Roman Church, in order to save its life, to reform 
 itself from within. In times of prosperity the self-seekers 
 rule, but in adversity honest men are called to the front. 
 So, after the Protestant Reformation had become a mighty 
 power, there were no more popes like the Borgias and the 
 Medici, but pure men leading austere lives. The abuses 
 in the convents also ceased. Holy persons, whose good- 
 ness no one could question, shed lustre on the Catholic 
 communit}^ — men like St. Francis de Sales (1G22), St. 
 Teresa (1582), St. Charles Borromeo (1584), St. Filip- 
 po Neri (1548). Indulgences are no longer exposed for 
 sale ; there are no more interdicts, nor auto-da-fes, nor 
 Bartholomew massacres. The old Orders were reformed, 
 or new Orders formed, for charity, for teaching and de- 
 votion. Such are the Oratory of Jesus, the Ursulines, 
 the Visitants, and the Mission of Vincent de Paul The 
 scandals which existed in the Roman Catholic Church 
 down to the time of Luther have ceased since that period. 
 Have we not a right then to say that the Protestant 
 Reformation was also a Catholic Reformation ? 
 
 Martin Luther and Ignatius Loyola are the illustrations 
 of two antagonistic principles. In Luther we see the power 
 of conviction, in Loyola of organization. The weapon of 
 
LUTHER AND LOYOLA. 273 
 
 one is Truth ; that of tlie otlier, Policy. The one works by 
 entlmsiasm, the other by skill. The Protestant enthusiasm 
 rises and recedes like a great tide ; the Jesuit oiganization 
 marches steadily onwai'd, .step by step. It is a perfect 
 machine; it works noiselessly but regularly, like the great 
 engine in an ocean steamer, driving the vessel on and on 
 without pause or check day after day ; but there is a 
 fatal flaw in the boiler ; so, at last, there comes an ex- 
 plosion, and the whole machine breaks in pieces. Three 
 centuries and a half have passed since the mighty strug- 
 gle began between Luther and Loyola, and how stands 
 the battle now ? What are the final results, the definite 
 gains on either side ? The Protestant cause, the Protes- 
 tant idea, grows ever stronger. Which were the great na- 
 tions of the world when the Reformation began ? Spain, 
 Italy, Austria, France, — all of them Catholic powers. 
 Which are the leadin<' nations now ? Prussia, France, 
 England, Eussia, the United States, — none of them 
 Eoman Catholic except France. But there is more than 
 that. All Europe to-day is pervaded by free thought. 
 Free thought, born of the Refoi-ination, rules in every 
 land. As the Jesuit in India turned Biahman, so the 
 Jesuit in America is obliged to turn Pationalist and to 
 declare that Home is on the side of reason. It is im- 
 possible now, in any country, even in Rome itself, to fet- 
 ter free thought. Free thought to-day triumphs in all 
 lands ; and this is the success of Luther and the defeat of 
 Loyola. 
 
 If, which is not possible, the whole world should become 
 Roman Catholic again from conviction and by the force 
 of argument, — even this would be the triumph of Luther 
 and not of Loyola ; for Luther stands for conviction, and he 
 said always, " Convince me, and I will accept all the doc- 
 trines of Rome." In si)ite of all sophistry and subtlety 
 
 18 
 
274 EVENTS AND EPOCHS IN RELIGIOUS HISTORY. 
 
 Luther will be regarded through all time as the cham- 
 pion of human liberty, and Loyola as that of human 
 slavery. Whenever mankind shall prefer slavery to free- 
 dom, Loyola and his cause may triumph, but certainly not 
 before. 
 
THE MYSTICS IN ALL UELlGlU^^S. 275 
 
 IX. 
 
 THE iMYSTICS IN ALL EELIGIONS. 
 
 § 1. Wide sj)read of Mysticism. Its definition. Mysti- 
 cism in Iiulia and Persia. — The frequent reappearance 
 of the same phenomenon among different races of men, 
 widely separated in space and time from each other, and 
 where there has been no intercourse or intercommunica- 
 tion, indicates the existence of some tendency of human 
 nature, the law of which it is well to study. Such a phe- 
 nomenon is mysticism. It has reappeared in all ages and 
 among nearly all the religions of the world. It is found 
 in China, India, Persia, as well as in Europe. It has 
 appeared among the Buddhists and Brahmans, among the 
 IMohammedans and Greeks, among the Jews and the 
 Christians. It is formulated witli much precision in the 
 Bhagavat-geeta, the Sankhya-Karika, and the Laws of 
 Manu, — three very ancient Hindoo works. It came up 
 among the New Platonists and was tlie basis of tlieir sys- 
 tem in tlie third century. It was found among the Jews, 
 in the writings of Philo and in the Cal)ala. Germany 
 and France saw it bloom into a multitude of marvellous 
 flowers in the Middle Ages. Hard Mohammedanism grew 
 tender in Persia among the Ssufis. Tslani answered Europe, 
 liabia and Deschela-deddin uttering the same language as 
 Tauler and Jacob Boehme. From Northern Europe comes 
 the solemn voice of Swedenborg. In France, Fenelon 
 
276 EVENTS AND EPOCHS IN RELIGIOUS HISTORY. 
 
 and Madame Guion prolong the mystic strain. Even 
 matter-of-fact England gives us Henry More, George Her- 
 bert, and William Law ; while America, where all things 
 seem to find a home, reproduces the same notes from tlie 
 lips of Emerson, General Hitchcock, and Jones Very. 
 Such a far-reaching unison of voices deserves examination, 
 that we may see what grains of gold can perchance be 
 found in this curious heap of ore. 
 
 First, we must ask, what is mysticism ? 
 
 Mysticism may be called the belief that man can come 
 into union with the Infinite Being by means of a wholly 
 passive self-surrender to divine influence. The organ in 
 man by which he thus communes with God is not will 
 nor reason ; it is not moral nor intellectual, but a hidden 
 faculty of the soul behind them all. In the ecstatic mo- 
 ment of this union, time, space, body, soul, personal exist- 
 ence, all disapjjear, and man becomes absorbed into the 
 Divine Being. It is a state of the soul which transcends 
 every act of reason or of faith, in which everything but 
 God loses reality. He who has been in this state retains 
 much of its influence afterward. He sees tlirough the 
 shows of things to their centre, becomes independent of 
 time and space, master of his body and mind, ruler of 
 nature by the sight of her inmost laws, and elevated above 
 all partial religions into the Universal Religion. This is 
 the essence of mysticism. It has in practice assumed 
 three forms : — 
 
 1. Religious mysticism, where the object sought was 
 spiritual communion with God. In this form it is found 
 among the Brahmans of India, the Ssufis of Persia, the 
 Saints of the Middle Ages, in Madame Guion and Eenelon, 
 Boehme and Novalis. 
 
 2. Philosophical mysticism, where the object was to 
 attain a knowledge of the essence of things by this mys- 
 
THE iMVSTlCS IN ALL RFXIGIONS. 277 
 
 turious organ, more powerful than reason. In this form it 
 appears in the Sankhya-Karika, the New Platonists, the 
 Kabhalists, Erigena ; and, in modern times, in Schelling 
 and Schleiermaelier. 
 
 3. Thaiunaturgic mysticism, or that wliicli claimed power 
 over nature, — a belief which developed into alchemy and 
 astrology. This is found in the writings of Apollonius of 
 Tyaua, of Paracelsus, and Agri[)pa, and is the method of 
 working wonders by means of a theosophic disci^dine. 
 
 Beginning with Asia, the most absolute Pantheistic mys- 
 ticism tlie world has seen is that of Bralimanism. The 
 most ancient philosopliy of this religion, the Vedanta, 
 teaches that there is only one Being in the Universe, God, 
 and that all else is Maya, or illusion. The true object 
 of life is to escape from this illusive existence by being 
 reabsorbed into Brahm. 
 
 Brahni is the Creator and the Created. That which no 
 man can utter, yet which expresses all things, is Brahm. 
 To express it we can only say, — " It is." 
 
 Sankhara, the great Vedanta philosopher, says : " I am 
 i>rahm; I am eternal, pure, free, one, constant. Whoever 
 annihilates all his desires, and ceases from himself, then 
 becomes one with the Universal Spirit. The knower of 
 God becomes God." The Bhagavat-geeta, tlie Bible of this 
 system, teaches tiiat the universe is all illusion, — real as 
 illusion, unreal as l)eing ; not true, since it has no essence ; 
 not false, because its existence, as illusion, is from God. 
 
 Passing from India to Persia we do not find mucli of the 
 mystic element in Zoroaster, but it has reappeared in the 
 Persian ]\Iohammedans called Ssufis. Like all other mys- 
 tics they teach that God is everything, man nothing ; and 
 that by entire escape from self-will man can Ixjcome one 
 with God. Bustami thought it a sin to believe in our 
 personal identity. He said tliat when man adores God, 
 
278 EVENTS AND EPOCHS IN RELIGIOUS HISTORY. 
 
 God adores himself. He declared himself so absorbed into 
 Deity as to be himself the divine power and wisdom. He 
 said : " I am the sea without bottom. I am the throne of 
 God. I am Gabriel, Michael, and all the angels. I am 
 Abraham, Moses, and Christ." 
 
 Other Moslem saints were less extreme. Eabia's doc- 
 trine is certainly not extravagant. 
 
 Here is a translation of a well known legend concern- 
 ing this St. Catherine of Persia. 
 
 Rabia, sick upon her bed, 
 By two saints was visited. 
 
 Holy Malik, Hassan wise. 
 Men of mark in Moslem eyes. 
 
 Hassan said : " Whose prayer is pure 
 Will God's chastisement endure" 
 
 Malik, from a deeper sense 
 Uttered his experience : — 
 
 " He who loves his Master's choice 
 Will in chastisement rejoice" 
 
 Rabia saw some selfish will 
 
 In their maxims lingering still, — 
 
 And replied : " O men of grace ! 
 He who sees his Master's face 
 
 Will not, in his prayer, recall 
 That he is chastised at all." 
 
 § 2. The, New Platonists. The Seholastic Mystics. The 
 German Mystics in the Fourteenth Century. Jacob Boehme. 
 — On our way to Europe we will stop in ancient Alexan- 
 dria. There, in the third century, is Plotinus, the mpt 
 
THE MYSTICS IN ALL RELIGIONS. 279 
 
 student of Plato, who sought to live " the angelic life " by 
 macerating the l)ocly and immersing himself in contem- 
 plation. One day he hears a teacher in the museum, 
 Ammonius Saccas. This man, who liiid heen a street- 
 jtorter, denounced all existing philosophies as partial, and 
 calk'd on his hearers to seek one which would include all 
 l»liilosophy and all religion in one vast spiritual system, 
 riotinus was charmed, and entered on this new way. 
 
 " Let us make," said he, " of Platoniism a religion deeper 
 than Christianity and as pure, wiser than Oriental religions, 
 more vital than the speculations of the Gnostics. But so vast 
 a growth must have a deep root. It cannot rest on any mere 
 speculation or argument, but on insight. There must be an 
 inward vision of truth, which shall be the root of all knowl- 
 edge. Tills ecstatic vision is what we need." 
 
 "We cannot know the Infinite," he writes to a friend, " l)y 
 our reason, but by some faculty superior to reason, by which you 
 cease to be your finite self and enter into the Divine Essence! 
 Tl)is is ecstasy. But we can only now and then attain this ele- 
 vation. I have only realized it three times, and Porphyry as 
 yet not once ; but all that purifies the soul prepares for it." 
 
 Porphyry and Proclus follow Plotinus, teaching the same 
 doctrine; and, curiously enough, in Italy, during the Penais- 
 sance, it was not chiefly Plato who was studied, but these 
 New Platonists, these mystics of Alexandria, by whose writ- 
 ings the seeds of mysticism were again planted in Europe. 
 
 But mysticism had entered the Christian Church before 
 by another road, — through the books ascribed to Diony- 
 sius the Areopagite. These writings became the manuals 
 during many centuries of European mysticism. They 
 taught that all things proceed from CJod and return 
 to him again in an endless circle, by a law of evolution. 
 Nothing exists but by God, yet he is above all existence; 
 and this l)ivine Liie is mediated l)y a Celestial Hierarchy 
 
280 EVENTS AND EPOCHS IN RELIGIOUS HISTORY. 
 
 through which all illumination descends, to reascend 
 again. Everything is good. Evil is unreal and does not 
 exist. But our highest knowledge of God conies to us 
 through a negative path, — by acknowledging our ignorance. 
 Omni-nescience then becomes the same as Omniscience. 
 
 St. Bernard also was a mystic, putting passive faith 
 above all knowledge. His quarrel with Abelard was be- 
 cause Abelard wislied to explain everything. It was not 
 that Abelard was a heretic, denying any part of the creed, 
 but that he took from it the veil of mystery. 
 
 There were also mystics among tlie Scholastic Doctors. 
 Hugo Victor was one of the chief in the twelfth century. 
 He, too, taught, that we cannot know truth or come to 
 God by our reason, but must meet him by mystical 
 insight. 
 
 In Germany, in the fourteenth century, mysticism ap- 
 peared in Master Eckhart at Cologne. He said such things 
 as these : — 
 
 " To every man who utterly abandons self, God must 
 necessarily communicate himself. When I do this I am one 
 with Him. He cannot then exclude me." 
 
 " God, in himself alone, is not God. Only in the creature 
 hath he become God. The eye by which I see God is the 
 same as that by which he sees me." 
 
 Eckhart tells this story : — 
 
 " There was once a learned man who prayed that God would 
 send some one to teach him the truth ; and there came one 
 day a voice saying to him, ' Go to the front of the church, and 
 thou wilt find one to show the right way.' So he went and 
 found a wretched beggar, and the learned man said to him, 
 ' Good day ! ' And he answered ' I never had a bad day.' 
 Then he said, ' God bless thee ; * and the beggar answered, ' I 
 am already blessed.' ' Heaven save thee,' said the scholar. 
 * I am already saved,' said he. ' How is this 1 ' asked the 
 
THE MYSTICS IN ALL RELIGIONS. 281 
 
 scholar ; * Explain it to me ! ' ' Willingly,' said the beggar ; 
 'All God's days are good, so I always have a good day ; I am 
 always blessed, for God's will is my will ; I am safe, for I be- 
 long to Him, and he does not wish to lose any of his creatures.' 
 
 * But how if God should send thee to hell 1 ' asked the scholar. 
 
 * He cannot,' said the beggar ; * his love restrains him ; but if 
 he did, I have still two arms with which to hold iiim ; one is 
 submission, and the other is love ; and so if I went to hell I 
 should take God with me ; and I had rather be in hell and have 
 God, than be in heaven and not have him.' " 
 
 There were many other mystics in the Christian Church 
 during the Middle Ages, — such as Tauler, Suso, Nicholas 
 of Basel, Brigitta, Catherine of Sienna, and, perhaps we 
 may add, the author of the " Imitation of Christ." 
 
 At the time of the Eei'ormation a new crop of mys- 
 tics arose, the chief of whom was Jacob Boehme, the 
 shoemaker. He was born in 1575. Like Georoje Fox 
 afterward, he was repelled by the coldness and hardness of 
 the Church teachers. His soul was oppressed by a sense 
 of the evils of the world. At last he received his first 
 illumination. He fell into a trance and was surrounded 
 by an atmosphere of glory. He seemed to behold all the 
 secrets of nature. His heart was full of peace. " I now 
 saw," said he, "the abyss; the three world.s, — that of 
 paradise and the angels, that of darkness, and this visible 
 world, — the result of the two others. I saw the nature 
 of good and evil. Then I set myself to write this down ; " 
 and so he \vrote " The Aurora." " In man," said he, " are 
 three gates opening into the three worlds. Man is able to 
 intereect all three." 
 
 This book, translated by William Law, is a curious mix- 
 ture of chemistry and theology, a compound of Paracelsus 
 and Plotinus ; Imt the ideas in the book are so profound 
 that all historians of philosophy think it necessary to 
 
282 EVENTS AND EPOCHS IN EELIGIOUS HISTORY. 
 
 devote some space to his theory. By mystic contemplation 
 man can behold God in himself as the " groundless Being," 
 the "silent nothing"; and he can also observe the forth- 
 coming of creation from God. " All things consist," says 
 he, " in Yes and No. The Yes is pure life, and is God 
 himself. The No is the reply to the Yes, and is the for- 
 mula of creation. Thus the silent nothing becomes some- 
 thing by passing into duality." Spinoza, Schelling, and 
 Hegel all partake of the ideas of Boehme. William Law, 
 author of " Law's Serious Call," has been his chief disciple 
 and interpreter in England, and may be regarded as the 
 chief of English mystics. 
 
 § 3. Fenclon and Madame Guion. The Tliaumatiir gists. 
 Swedenhorg. — Another form of mysticism was the quiet- 
 ism of Madame Guion and of Fenelon, which consisted in 
 believing in the possibility of a state in which all desires 
 and wishes should be submitted to the will of God, and 
 in which one should love God for himself alone. They 
 had the same formula that afterward was used by the 
 Hopkinsians in New England, that one was not fit to be 
 saved till he was willing to be damned for the glory of 
 God. Madame Guion and Fenelon taught this doctrine 
 of disinterested love, the same which the saints of all 
 ages have proclaimed. It was the same that a woman in 
 Alexandria taught in the early centuries when she walked 
 through the streets, carrying a torch in one hand and a 
 pitcher of water in the other, saying : " With this torch I 
 will burn the heavens, and with this water quench the 
 fires of hell, that men may love God for himself alone." 
 Louis XIV. and Bossuet persecuted Fenelon and Aladame 
 Guion as heretics. They were the purest and holiest of hu- 
 man beinos ; but the world and the Church have too often 
 made martyrs of such, not perceiving that they were saints. 
 Another class of mystics who came up at this time was 
 
THE MYSTICS IN ALL RELIGIONS. 283 
 
 the Thauraatiirgists, who iinagiiieJ that by ascetic disci- 
 pline, purihcatiou of the senses, and inward ilhiniination, 
 they might attain such a knowledge of the secrets of 
 nature as to work wonders. Solomon was believed in the 
 East, and still is, to have possessed tliis natural magic, and 
 be able to command anufels and demons to serve him. 
 This belief was perhaps an obscure prophecy of the miracles 
 wrought by modern science, the greatest of all magicians ; 
 nor were the efforts of these Thaumaturgists wholly use- 
 less. The alchemists prepared the way for tlie chemists, 
 and astrology gathered facts to be used by astronomy. 
 These mystics were right in thinking that knowledge w^as 
 power. Though they mistook the path, they aimed at the 
 truth. 
 
 The faith of the Theurgists was like the auroral light 
 which precedes sunrise. Cornelius Agrippa and Para- 
 celsus believed in an occult science which would master 
 nature. They held that all space was pervaded by hidden 
 lives of magnetic sympathy, a vast network binding all 
 things together. All nature was full of desire, a longing 
 to ascend, — the lower ever seeking the higher worlds. 
 Every planet shed healing or baneful influence ; all sweet 
 sounds were set to the music of tlie splieres. Nature was 
 full of oracles. A soul pervaded the universe, and man 
 was a microcosm allied to the whole world, having sym- 
 pathies with all nature. Everything had its mark, or 
 signature, and all the signs were to be found in the human 
 soul. Thus the universe vibrated witli human sympathies 
 which our colder science has dispelled, perhaps one day 
 to return in a higlier form. 
 
 We will now pass on to consider the mysticism of Swe- 
 denborg. " Swedenborg," says one of his biographers, 
 " may be compared to a great country without roads, full 
 of pleasant and fruitful spots, divided by sandy and arid 
 
284 EVENTS AND EPOCHS IN RELIGIOUS HISTORY. 
 
 tracts, and best reached by dropping from above as from a 
 balloon." I shall adopt this method in what I have to 
 say of him, attempting no systematic examination. 
 
 Was Swedenborg a mystic ? He was one in this respect, 
 that he asserted that there is in man an organ, which is 
 neither reason nor faith, by which he can see the spiritual 
 world. He describes it thus : — 
 
 " During a night in 1745, the world of spirits, Hell and 
 Heaven, were convincingly opened to me, wliere I saw many 
 persons of my acquaintance. Thereafter the Lord daily opened 
 the eyes of my spirit to see in perfect wakefulness what was 
 o'oinf' on in the other world, and to converse, broad-awake, 
 with angels and spirits." 
 
 According to Swedenborg this spiritual world, which he 
 was chosen to see and describe, is the root and inner sub- 
 stance of the outward world. All that exists around us 
 comes from some spiritual thing corresponding thereto. 
 It is the internal of the physical world. Thus our sun in 
 the sky has a spiritual sun corresponding to it in the 
 spiritual sky. A possible explanation of his vision may 
 be that this power of looking into the spiritual world is a 
 faculty common to all men, but seldom exercised. Others 
 beside Swedenborg have seen visions, sucli for instance as 
 those described in the Bible. When Paul on his way to 
 Damascus saw Jesus, it was because Paul's spiritual eye 
 was opened. His attendants saw no one, because their 
 inner sight was not opened. When Paul says afterward 
 that he was caught up into the Third Heaven, he is de- 
 scribing the same fact. His inw^ard eye w^as opened so as 
 to see the Third Heaven ; but Swedenborg was so made 
 that he habitually looked into this spiritual world during 
 twenty-seven years. This is his claim, and this makes 
 him a mystic. 
 
THE MYSTICS IN ALL RELIGIONS. 285 
 
 But he was no Thaumaturgist He claimed im magical 
 power or faculty of working miracles. The two or three 
 marvels ascrilx^d to him he makes no account of liimself. 
 Nor does he, like most mystics, despise this present world 
 and retreat from it. He takes a very matter-of-lact inter- 
 est in all things here, and has very pronounced opinions 
 on human life and conduct ; nor is there much that is 
 misty in his mysticisuL On the contrary he maps out 
 everything very distinctly, and goes into great detail in 
 describing the spiritual world. He explains everything, 
 tells us exactly how everything is done, and is even some- 
 times tedious in his minute descriptions of life and man- 
 ners in the spiritual world. 
 
 Thus, describing tlie speech of the angels, he says : — 
 
 " The language of Heaven is a universal language. It is 
 not taught. Every one, at death, finds he has it, and speaks it 
 instinctively. Its sounds are those of the affection, articulated 
 by the understanding. . . . The speech of the celestial angels 
 is like a gentle stream, soft and continuous ; that of the spirit- 
 ual angels, rather vibratory and broken. Celestial language 
 partakes greatly of the sound of the vowels U and 0. It con- 
 tains no harsh consonants. 
 
 " Spiritual language is distinguished by the free use of the 
 vowels A and /. . . . Angels can express in a minute what 
 man cannot utter in half an hour ; in a single word, more than 
 njan can say in a thousand." 
 
 Neveitheless, according to Swedenborg, when an angel 
 speaks to a man he uses the same language, speaking to a 
 Frenchman in French, and the like. That is because the 
 angel enters into the man's memory, conjoining himself 
 with his spiritual thought. 
 
 Swedenborg was so much at home in the spiritual 
 world that he often gave good advice to those he found 
 there, even to the angels. One day he met in the s[)iriti.al 
 
286 EVENTS AND EPOCHS IN EELIGIOUS HISTORY. 
 
 world an angel who was a school-master. He cried out : 
 " Who are you ? Whence did you come ? I saw you 
 just now, and then I did not see you." Swedenborg re- 
 plied with a smile : " I am no juggler, but I am both a 
 foreigner and native in this world. I belong to the world 
 whence you come, and also to this. Sometimes I pass into 
 the natural world, and then you do not see me ; then I 
 enter the spiritual state, and you see me. This has been 
 granted me by the Lord. It is known to you, illustrious 
 Sir, that a man of the natural world does not see one of 
 the spiritual world, and vice versa. Therefore, when I let 
 my spirit into my body you did not see me, but when I 
 let it out you did see me." All which was, no doubt, 
 highly satisfactory to the angel. 
 
 Swedenborg differs from the mystics chiefly in making 
 the other world so much like this. Most mystics regard 
 the other world as containing what eye cannot see nor ear 
 hear nor the human imagination conceive ; but Sweden- 
 borg, following his doctrine of Correspondence, reproduces 
 in the spiritual world the most commonplace facts and 
 events of this. 
 
 Thus he tells us that in writing the spiritual angels use 
 letters like our common Eoman types, but the celestial 
 angels use a sort of Arabic or Hebrew alphabet. Tlie 
 angels have books and libraries just as men have, and 
 preach from our Bible. 
 
 He describes the little girls who die and go to Heaven 
 (where all children go) as being put into very much such a 
 boarding-school as we have here., " Every little girl," he 
 says, " has her own chamber and bed, with a closet near 
 by far her clothes and knick-knacks." I am sorry to hear 
 from this accurate witness that they are constantly en- 
 gaged in needlework, embroidering nosegays on white 
 linen ; but it appears that they do not sell these little 
 
THE MYSTICS IN ALL LLLIGIONS. 287 
 
 articles at fairs, but always give them away. These chil- 
 dren have coiiiiiiou clothes and dress-clothes, which come to 
 them without their knowing whence. When spots appear 
 on their clothes, it is a sign that the children have thought 
 something amiss ; when they repent of it, the spots vanish. 
 If one of their garments disappears, they know they have 
 done something wrong ; if a new one comes, then tliey see 
 in it a reward of merit. Each of them has a Bible and 
 a hymn-book, but if they do not use them the books 
 vanish. 
 
 Tiiere is a good deal of church-going and preaching in 
 Heaven. Although Swedenborg frequently explains that 
 true worship is a good life, still the angels believe in 
 external worship also. Their temples hold about three 
 thousand persons. The seats are in a semicircle, rising up 
 toward the rear, as is now common in public halls. The 
 door is beliind the pulpit, on the left-hand. Each one has 
 his own place, which he finds by an instinct. If he takes 
 the wrong one, he can neither see nor hear anything. 
 Nor is it lawful in Heaven to stand behind another and 
 look at the back of his head. If you do, you prevent the 
 influx of goodness and truth from the Lord. 
 
 One thing which differences Swedenborg from many 
 mystics is that he finds law everywhere. Tliere is nothing 
 arbitrary in his visions of the other world. It is the home 
 of univ^ersal law. God acts by law there exactly as he 
 does here. Thus the doctrines of Swedenborg are a kind 
 of Rationalism, — ]\fystical Itationalism, if you please, but 
 still very rational always. 
 
 Swedenborg, like modern science, saw no abrupt transi- 
 tions in this life or that which follows it, both worlds 
 being under the same laws. His doctrine of Degrees 
 teaches that everywhere tliere is gradation, — steps lead- 
 ing from one fact to another. These degrees make an 
 
288 EVENTS AND EPOCHS IN EELIGIOUS HISTORY. 
 
 order everywhere. Continuous degrees are the gradation 
 from light to shade, heat to cold, etc. Discrete degrees 
 are where things are intimately related yet distinct, — 
 like soul and body, or cause and effect. 
 
 His aversion to all abrupt change appears in his account 
 of the very slight transition which occurs at death. When 
 one dies, he often does not know that he is dead. Every- 
 thing around him looks as it always did, — the sam.e land 
 and sky, trees, houses, men, and women. 
 
 Here are some of his stories about death. He said : 
 "A certain spirit supposed himself to be still on earth. I 
 was allowed to inform him tliat he was a spirit. On hear- 
 ing this he fled away in terror, crying out : ' I am a spirit ! 
 I am a spirit ! ' " 
 
 At the first entrance into another life people continue 
 very much as they were here. Curious souls go sight- 
 seeing, and are shown beautiful gardens, palaces, and the 
 like. Every one creates a world for himself. 
 
 When Martin Luther arrived in the spiritual world he 
 continued to teach Justification by Faith alone ; so a house 
 was allotted to him, and in one of the rooms, at a little 
 desk, he received hearers and lectured to them as he had 
 done on earth. When Calvin arrived he thought he was 
 still on the earth, because he seemed to have the same 
 body. He went about searching for those spirits who be- 
 lieved in Predestination. In their society he was happy. 
 But as they were sent away he became weary of himself, 
 and went among some simple-minded spirits ; but when 
 he found they could not understand Predestination he hid 
 in a corner and kept silence. 
 
 Swedenborg seems to have had as great a taste for the 
 society of distinguished people as the modern mediums. 
 A spiritual seance would not be thought much of at which 
 some eminent persons were not present, such as Shake- 
 
THE MYSTICS IN ALL KLLIGIONS. 289 
 
 speare, Bacon, Napoleon, or Geor^^e Wasliin^^rton ; so we find 
 Swedeuborg conversing witli the Twelve Apostles, Aris- 
 totle, 8t. Augustine, the Kuijieror Augustus, several popes, 
 King David, Cicero, Georgt; Fox the Quaker, King George 
 IL, Gustavus Adolphus, St. Paul, Leihnitz, Louis XIV., 
 Luther and Loyola, St. John, Mohauinied, the Virgin Mary, 
 Sir Isaac Newton, Moses, Virgil, Xavier, Sir Hans Sloane, 
 and William Penn. In many cases he seemed to personify 
 his prejudices, and I do not think much reliance can be 
 placed on his descriptions of character. He disliked Paul 
 and David, he disliked Luther and Calvin, he disliked the 
 Quakers ; and he has given us of all these, not portraits, 
 but caricatures. Many of his narrations have the ai)pear- 
 ance of fantastic imaginations, and "are such stuff as dreams 
 are made of." 
 
 And yet, with all this, there is so much that is original 
 and profound, and all is told with such evident honesty, 
 that Swedenborg remains one of the most insoluble of 
 problems. Those who accept all that he says as true, and 
 the man as divinely commissioned, have no difficulty ; 
 those who regard him as a mere fanatic and enthusiast 
 have no difficulty ; but one who wislies to be just, botli to 
 the man and to his own reason, finds it hard to decide. For 
 here is a man endnent in science, an accomplished mathe- 
 matician, anatomist, metallurgist, — a man who had writ- 
 ten thirty-four works before he was fifty-five years old, 
 and after that became the subject of these mysterious reve- 
 lations. His writings down to that time were books in 
 Latin and Swedish, on mathematics, on the manufacture 
 of tin-plate, on finding the longitude, on the motion of the 
 earth and planets, on the tide-levels, moneys, measures, 
 docks, salt-works, the manufacture of iron, chemistry, navi- 
 gation, and the like. Wlien fifty-five years old lie suddenly 
 begins to have his visions, and from that time writes and 
 
 19 
 
290 EVENTS AND EPOCHS IN EELIGIOUS HISTORY. 
 
 publishes some thirty or forty works, containing the doc- 
 trines of the New Jerusalem. 
 
 With much that apparently indicates the personal limi- 
 tations of the author, — there remains a wonderful amount 
 of wisdom. These deliverances are of a noble order of 
 thought ; their influence is to uplift the soul ; they present 
 a view of God and the Universe which, on the whole, 
 commends itself to the reason. It is perhaps best not to 
 attempt any solution of this problem, but to take and use 
 what is good in these writings and to leave the rest ; and 
 if we would give a name to this system, we might call it 
 Eational Mysticism. We may safely leave undecided the 
 question how far these walks and talks with spirits were 
 imaginary, and how far real. After reading many of them, 
 we get a little tired, and sometimes feel as Hotspur did in 
 listening to the Conjurer Glendower; though we would 
 not be so irreverent as to apply this to Swendenborg : — 
 
 " He angers me 
 With such a deal of skimble-skamble stuff, 
 As puts me from my faith. I tell you what, — 
 He held me, but last night, at least nine hours 
 In reckoning up the several devils' names 
 That were his lackeys : he 's tedious ! " 
 
 But let us consider these stories as illustrations of what 
 Milton said before, anticipating Swedenborg : — 
 
 " What if earth 
 Be but the shadow of Heaven, and things therein 
 Each to other like, more than on earth is thought ; " . 
 
 illustrating the great truths that punishments are neither 
 arbitrary nor capricious, but benignant and according to 
 divine laws ; that there is no abrupt change from life to 
 life ; that Heaven is not outward felicity, but doing good 
 through truth from love ; that inward character makes 
 
THE MYSTICS IN ALL KELIGIONS. 2'Jl 
 
 Heaven or Hell. If we learn such trutlis as these iVoni 
 Svvedenborg, we may accept them gratefully, and leave tlie 
 question of how lie obtained them unsettled. 
 
 Curiously enough, Swedenhorg seems to reverse the 
 })rocess of other mystics. Instead of going out of nature, 
 and being lost in spirit, he spiritualizes all of nature. In- 
 stead of being absorbed in God, he receives an inlhix from 
 God to use for the world. God descends into him ; he does 
 not ascend into God. In short, Swedenborg's system is 
 not only a National Mysticism, but also a Spiritual Nat- 
 uralism. 
 
 § 4. American Mystics. Raliyh Waldo Emerson, Jones 
 Very. — I shall now speak of another thinker and writer 
 among ourselves, who has also been called a mystic, — I 
 mean Ralph Waldo Emerson. During the last forty years 
 his writings have exercised an ever increasing influence, 
 not only in this country but also in Europe. 
 
 The leaders of thought refer frequently to him as one of 
 their masters. He has won this distinction by his pene- 
 trating insight into things natural and divine, by the 
 unclouded transparency of his intellectual vision, by the 
 elevation and purity of his thoughts, and by a certain pro- 
 phetic vision which has enabled him to foresee truths to 
 which others arrived long after. There are also united in 
 him, as in other men of the greatest genius, intellectual 
 courage and intellectual modesty. With all this there 
 is the charm of a temper which nothing has been able 
 to irritate, a patience which could abide its time, a wit 
 like the flash of a diamond which delights but does not 
 wound, and a mastery of the resources of the English 
 language before unknown among us. 
 
 Emerson is no logician nor metaphysician, nor has he 
 ever pretended to be so. For such mental action he has 
 no taste. A man of insights, he simply tells what he sees. 
 
292 EVENTS AND EPOCHS IN RELIGIOUS HISTORY. 
 
 Professing no system, he has not been obliged to defend 
 any system, nor to attack that of others. Like his own 
 "Humble Bee," he takes what suits him and goes his 
 
 way : — 
 
 " All beside was empty waste, 
 
 All was picture as he passed." 
 
 When he first began to write and lecture he urged 
 two leading ideas which, though certainly not contra- 
 dictory, were apparently antagonistic truths, and truths 
 which he never attempted to reconcile. These were Self- 
 reliance on the one side, and God-reliance on the other. 
 Self-reliance he taught as against all slavery to custom, 
 all subserviency to opinion, — as intellectual integrity. 
 He called on all men to be themselves, to trust their own 
 thought, not to defer to conventionalities. " Imitation," 
 said he, "is suicide, — even imitation of one's self. I must 
 be true to myself of to-day, even if I contradict myself of 
 yesterday. No law is sacred but that of my own nature. 
 We are too much swayed by every decent and well-spoken 
 individuaL" In one place he says : — 
 
 " I must speak the rude truth in all ways. . . . Our good- 
 ness must have edge to it. . . . If an angry bigot assumes this 
 beautiful cause of Abolition, should I not say to him : ' Go love 
 thy infant ; be good-natured and modest, and never varnish 
 your hard uncharitable ambition with this incredible tenderness 
 for black folk a thousand miles off.' " 
 
 He opposed conformity to usages which had become 
 dead to him, — to a dead church or a dead party. He 
 opposed giving to charitable objects because others gave — 
 ''to educate fools in colleges. . . . giving alms to sots;" 
 and though, as he confessed, he sometimes gave the dollar, 
 he declared it a wacked dollar which by and by he would 
 have the manhood to withhold. 
 
THE MYSTICS IN ALI. UKLIGIONS. 293 
 
 " I liope tluit ill these days we Imve heard the last of con- 
 formity and consistency. I will never how and apologize more. 
 A great man is coming to my house ; I do not wish to please 
 him ; I wish that he should wish to please me." 
 
 This doctrine of personal independence Emerson taught 
 in an infinite variety of ways, and it sank deep into tlie 
 thought of that period. Commonplace enough now, it was 
 new and very necessary then. Emerson's imitators carried 
 it to an extreme and affected eccentricity, because they 
 were not as strong as he and could not hold their own 
 modestly, but were obliged to sunmion all men to see how 
 independent they were ; but the teaching, nevertheless, was 
 very wholesome and profitable. 
 
 The first series of Essays, which contained the best on 
 " Self-Reliance," c(jntained another on " The Over-Soul." 
 This gave the other view of life, and herein was taught 
 not Self-reliance but God-reliance. Here came in the 
 element of mysticism. You will find in that essay nearly 
 every thought with which we have become familiar in the 
 Persian Ssufis, the Hindoo Brahmans, Master Eckhart, 
 and Tauler. 
 
 This essay teaches, with Plotinus, that we rise into the 
 Infinite only in occasional and brief moments, that these 
 inspired moments mark an infliuc from a hidden source 
 which is not tcs but above us. He says : " I desire, and 
 look up, and put myself in the attitude of reception. I 
 am a pensioner, not the source of this ethereal water ; from 
 some higher energy these visions come." He teaches, then, 
 the same doctrine of passive reception which the universal 
 church of mystics has steadily proclaimed. 
 
 He teaches also another mystical doctrine, that w^e become 
 ourselves the universal soul by receiving it, — "the wise 
 silence, the universal beauty, the eternal one." 
 
 As He'jel and lamblichus and Jacob Buchine tauiilit, 
 
294 EVENTS AND EPOCHS IN EELIGIOUS HISTORY. 
 
 SO Emerson distinctly asserts, that subject and object are 
 one in tliis ineffable moment of intellectual intuition. 
 " The act of seeing and the thing seen, the seer and the 
 spectacle, the subject and the object, are one." 
 
 He goes further and announces, as Swedenborg had 
 declared already, that all the substance in man is divine, 
 — not man but God ; that we are only forms to be filled 
 by a perpetual influx from above. 
 
 " When this over-soul breathes through man's intellect it is 
 genius ; through his will, it is virtue ; through his aftections, it 
 is love. . . . The simplest person who in his integrity worships 
 God, becomes God. . . . Behold ! he says, I am born into the 
 great, the universal mind. I, the imperfect, adore my own 
 perfect." 
 
 The motto of the volume says the same thing : — 
 
 " I am the owner of the sphere, 
 Of the seven stars, and the solar year ; 
 Of Caesar's hand and Plato's brain ; 
 Of Lord Christ's heart and Shakespeare's strain." 
 
 All this seems to touch the verge of Pantheism ; but 
 does not all religion approach very near that perilous 
 abyss ? We could cite many passages from the Bible 
 which seem to graze the edge of Pantheism ; much as the 
 comet of 1680 seemed almost to fall into the sun, yet 
 circled close round it, and darted away again into outer 
 space. In fact, language is too poor to say what we wish 
 on such themes, and when we try to speak of communion 
 with God we may be pardoned some extreme expres- 
 sions. 
 
 At the time Mr. Emerson began to write and speak, 
 the elders in this community were men trained in the 
 school of Locke, Addison, Pope, — and to them he seemed 
 " a setter forth of strange gods." His language also was 
 obscure and new-fangled in their ears. They called it 
 
THE MYSTICS IN ALL RELIGIONS. 205 
 
 affectation, not knowing that it was derived from tlie purest 
 fountains of old English literature. When the Dial ap- 
 peared, in 1841, the astonishment of the more conserva- 
 tive citizens became greater. I do not wonder at it. What 
 could they make of some of ^Ir. Alcott's " Orphic Sayings," 
 which began thus : — 
 
 "Thou art, my heart, a soul-flower, facing ever and following 
 the motions of thy suu, i)leading thy affinity with the celestial 
 orbs, . . . Believe, youth, that your heart is an oracle. The 
 lieart is the pro{)liet of tlie soul. Great is the heart ; she 
 is big with the fiitiu'o. . . . Choice implies apt)stasy. The 
 j)ure soul is above choice. . . . Reason is the left hand of 
 instinct ; " — 
 
 and so on through a ddzen pages. Or what could sober 
 
 citizens think of such verses as these, which habitually 
 
 appeared in the Dial, from the younger sort of Transcen- 
 
 dentalists ? — 
 
 " Greatly to be 
 Is enough for me, 
 Is enough for thee ; " 
 
 or when a pjoet informed his lady-love that he "lay be- 
 neath her soul like a lit tree," and that his 
 
 " Fanta.<«y was slow, 
 E'er Isabel could die." 
 
 In fact Mr. Emerson had a theory of his own in edit- 
 ing the Dial. He was always looking for some new 
 Messiah of thought, " whose shoe-latchets lie himself 
 would not be worthy to unloose." The most modest 
 of men as regarded his own wTitings, he was a some- 
 what indiscreet admirer of all that seemed original in 
 others. He encouraged every one to write in the Dial 
 who wished, on this condition, — that each should have 
 
296 EVENTS AND EPOCHS IN RELIGIOUS HISTORY. 
 
 something to say which was unusual and unconven- 
 tional, something which should defy what Shelley calls 
 " the Anarch Custom." Nor did he always perceive 
 that these eccentricities were not originalities, but some- 
 times only poor imitations of himself. Every morn- 
 ing when he awoke he was hoping that day to find 
 the coming genius, the man who was to revolutionize 
 the world ; and many disappointments could not cure 
 this generous hope. 
 
 Shortly before the time of the Dial another genuine 
 mystic a2:)peared in New England, who imitated no one, 
 and seemed the outgrowth of the soil. I mean Jones 
 Very. He published sonnets which were utterances of 
 his own soul, and had a purity like that of the air in a 
 bright December day in New England. Some of these, I 
 think, will not perish. I will give one, not the best but 
 better than others (first published by me in a periodical 
 which I edited in Kentucky in 1838), which I received 
 with other sonnets from Mr. Very with a note in which he 
 said : — 
 
 " I was moved to send you these sonnets. That they may 
 help those in affliction for Christ's name, is ever the prayer of 
 me, his disciple, called to be a witness of his sufferings and an 
 expectant of his glory." 
 
 " I cannot tell the sorrows that I feel 
 
 By the night's darkness, by the prison's gloom ; 
 There is no sis^^ht that can the death reveal 
 
 The spirit suffers in earth's living tomb. 
 There is no sound of grief that mourners raise, 
 
 No moaning of the wind or dirge-like sea, 
 Nor hymns, though prophet-tones inspire the lays, 
 
 That can the spirit's grief awake in thee. 
 Thou, too, must suffer, as it suffers here, 
 
 The death in Christ to know the Father's love ; 
 
THE MYSTICS IN ALL IlELIGIOXS. 297 
 
 Then, in the strains that angels love to hear, 
 
 Tliou, too, slialt hear the spirits' song above ; 
 And learn, in grief, what these can never tell, 
 A note too deep for eart]:ly voice to swell." 
 
 This same sad, plaintive, ho[)eful, adorinir strain, runs 
 through all these sonnets. Mr. Very believed, with Ma- 
 dame Guion nnd others, that sin is self-will ; and holiness, 
 absolute obedienee in all things, small and great, to the 
 will of God made known in the soul. He believed liim- 
 self led in all things by the Spirit of God, and so illu- 
 minated as not to think or conjecture or believe, but to 
 know. 
 
 Is it not a singular fact that in all lands and races there 
 sliould be found men firmly convinced that the finite soul 
 can come into intimate union with the Infinite Spirit ? 
 And these men have been select men, — not weak, not 
 mere enthusiasts, but with a power of convincing others 
 and of influencin^r their time. One thin<T at least this 
 proves, that there is some mysterious tie Ijetween time and 
 eternity, between the finite and the infinite, between the 
 human heart and the Divine Heart of the Universe. The 
 opinions of these mystics may have been false, their 
 methods unsound, tlieir conclusions doubtful ; but this 
 wide experience sliows that there is a relation between the 
 creature and the Creator, and that we are intended in 
 some way, at some time, to be brought into union with 
 Him. 
 
 The one truth in all mysticism is that God is nearer to 
 us than any other one is, and that a right attitude of soul 
 is better than all doctrines or ceremonies. It is faith in 
 the relation of the finite child to his Infinite Father, and 
 the possibility of communion with him. All worship, all 
 love, is surrounded with mystery ; all that we know is sur- 
 rounded by the vast unknown. 
 
298 EVENTS AND EPOCHS IN RELIGIOUS HISTORY. 
 
 Tennyson, not only the sweetest but one of the deepest 
 poets of our time, does justice to the Mystic in one of his 
 noblest poems : — 
 
 '• Angels have talked with him and showed him thrones. 
 
 He often lying broad-awake, and yet 
 Remaining from the body, and apart 
 In intellect and power and will, hath heard 
 Time flowing in the middle of the night, 
 And all things creeping to a day ot" doom. 
 How could ye know him ? Ye were yet within 
 The narrower circle. He had well nigh reached 
 The last, which, with a region of white flame, 
 Pure, without heat, into a larger air 
 Upburning, and an ether of black-blue, 
 Investeth and ingirds all other lives." 
 
GEORGE FOX AND THE QL'AKEliS. 299 
 
 X. 
 
 GEORGE FOX AND THE QUAKERS. 
 
 § 1. Tlui Quaker movemcrU a remarkable oiie, having in 
 it tJic seed of manij modern rcfmins. — After the mystics, 
 whom we coDsiclered in our last lecture, the Quakers follow 
 very naturally. These are the English mystics, — mystics 
 adapted to the nature of the English mind. The English, 
 the most practical of nations, must take their mysticism in 
 a practical way, embodied in a sect, with its creed, forms, 
 modes of worship. Mysticism in England must fall into 
 line and drill according to the English methods. Other 
 mystics have been satisfied with lonely communion with 
 God. The English mystics naturally build meeting-houses, 
 organize societies, make proselytes, send out missionaries, 
 write arguments, reply to criticisms. Accordingly, this is 
 the form which mysticism took in England. The New 
 Jerusalem of Swedenborg, which he himself regarded not 
 as a new sect but as a leaven to penetnite all sects, was, in 
 England, not put into the meal, but into one corner of the 
 bread-trough by itself. This seems unfortunate, for it has 
 probably limited the spread of the truths contained in that 
 noble doctrine. In like manner the truths of Quakerism 
 have been restrained in tlieir influence by the formation of 
 the Society of Friends as another sect. 
 
 Whatever the cause of this check, it is stranire to see 
 that the early Quakers anticipated, two hundred years ago, 
 
300 EVENTS AND EPOCHS IN RELIGIOUS HISTORY. 
 
 the reforms which are only being carried out to-day. In 
 an aoe when all men thought Imman slavery a reasonable, 
 just, and Christian institution, the Friends bore their testi- 
 mony against it. War then, as now, was believed a neces- 
 sary evil; but the Friends called it a sin in which no 
 Christian man should take part, either by military service 
 or by paying taxes to support the army. Quakers first 
 believed in equal rights for women, allowing them to 
 speak and preach in public. They were from the begin- 
 ning^ consistent non-resistants and consistent abolition- 
 ists, opposing also that system of judicial oaths which has 
 made some forms of perjury a common matter. They pro- 
 tested against the system of capital punishments which 
 then made death the penalty for so many petty crimes. 
 They protested against imprisonment for debt, which has 
 only been abolished in Massachusetts within our memory. 
 They protested against extravagance and waste, vanity and 
 idle luxury, the senseless changes of fashion, and all false- 
 hood in act or speech. 
 
 How startling in those days, when the Eeforraation in 
 England was like a young chicken still carrying about its 
 shell on its back, were the daring religious reforms of this 
 Society, — its denunciation of a hireling ministry ; its re- 
 jection of Baptism and the Lord's Supper ; its making the 
 authority of the Bible subordinate to that of the personal 
 interior conviction of each soul ; its declaration that men 
 can be saved in all religions by means of the inward light 
 " which lighteth every man that cometh into the world ; " its 
 rejection of all the traditions of the Church ; its criticisms 
 on what are called the essential doctrines of Christianity. 
 Tiie Quakers do not now alarm the world, because it is 
 seen that their beliefs are not likely to spread widely ; but 
 in the beginning, when their doctrines were rapidly ex- 
 tending on all sides, and no one knew " to what this might 
 
GEORGE FOX AND THE QUAKERS. 301 
 
 grow," no wonder tliey were attacked, reviled, and hated, 
 — as, uubai)pily for the lueniory of our Turitan Fathers, 
 they were persecuted liere in Boston. Dryden says 
 that : — 
 
 " Hi^i;h turrets, in their airy sweep, 
 Retiuire foundations in jirojtortion deep, — 
 And lolly cediirs as far upward shoot 
 As to the nether heavens they drive the root." 
 
 Let us then look at the origin of the Quakers, to see 
 what the root was out of which such notable reforms 
 came. 
 
 § 2. Gcorijc Fox, tlic Founder of Q^takerism. His E:qjeri- 
 CTiccs. — ^^ George Fox, the founder of tlie Society of Friends, 
 was born in 1024 at Drayton, in Leicestershire. His father, 
 he says, " was a weaver, an honest man ; and there was a 
 seed of God in him. Tlie neighbors called him Righteous 
 Christer. My mother was an upright woman ; her name 
 was Lago, and she was of the stock of the martyrs." In 
 his younger years, Fox was noticed for a gravity and staid- 
 ness of spirit unusual among children. When eleven years 
 old, he says, " he knew pureness and righteousness, the 
 L<')rd teaching him to be faitliful inwardly to God and out- 
 wardly to man, and to keep to Yea and Nay in all things." 
 His parents, who were mend^ers of the Churcdi of England, 
 desired to train him up to that way of worship, but they 
 did not press him to conform. As lie grew up, some of 
 liis relations were for making a priest of him, but others 
 pei*suad(!d to the contrary ; so he was apprenticed to a 
 shoemaker, who also dealt in wool and liad many sheep. 
 Fox took delight in the sheep, and taking care of them was 
 an employment that suited his mind. In his dealings he 
 used the word " verily," and people said : " If George says 
 Verily, there is no altering him." About tliis time, being 
 nineteen years old, he wa.«; mucli shocked by discovering 
 
302 EVENTS AND ErOCHS IN RELIGIOUS HISTORY. 
 
 that to profess religion was not the same thing as to prac- 
 tise it. Some professors of religion asked him into a booth 
 at a fair, and they began to drink healths. On this George 
 Fox left them, and went home in great affliction. He 
 could not sleep that night, but walked up and down and 
 prayed to the Lord ; and it was borne in upon his mind 
 " that since young people went to vanity and old people 
 to the earth, I must forsake all, keep away from all, and be 
 as a stranger to them." 
 
 So in 1643 he left his relatives, and broke off all famil- 
 iarity with young or old. He left home and travelled 
 from place to place, his mind being in a state of distress. 
 This condition of religious anxiety lasted several years. 
 He met with many professors of religion, but saw that 
 they did not possess what they professed. He went to 
 many a priest for comfort, but could find none. He went 
 to London, hoping to get some satisfaction from the great 
 religious professors of that city, but he saw that all were 
 under the chain of darkness. Hearing that his parents 
 were troubled at his absence, and probably concluding that 
 the Word he wanted was not to be found beyond the sea 
 or over the land, he went home again to Leicestershire. 
 The remedies suggested for liis state of mind were — that 
 he should marry; that lie should enlist as a soldier in the 
 armies of Parliament, which had just conquered Prince 
 Ptupert ; that he should take physic and be bled ; and one 
 priest, with whom he reasoned about the ground of despair 
 and of temptation, advised him to take tobacco and sing 
 psalms ; " but," says Fox, " tobacco was a thing I did not 
 love, and j)salms I was not in a state to sing ; " and he was 
 grieved to have opened his mind to such a man. He found 
 his advisers all miserable comforters. One who lived at 
 Tamworth was said to be " an experienced man." He went 
 to see him and found him like a hollow cask. They tried 
 
GEORGE FOX AND THE QUAKERS. 303 
 
 to bleed him, — the universal remedy then for all diseases, 
 bodily and mental, — but could ^x-t no Ijlood from his 
 arms or head, his body being dried u\) with troubles and 
 griefs which were so great upon him that he wished he 
 had never been born, or been born blind and deaf so as 
 not to see the wicked actions nor hear the wicked words 
 of men. 
 
 Slowly certain convictions came into his mind, which 
 he regarded as the openings of the Lord to his soul. 
 First that " only those were really believers in Christ 
 who had passed from death to life ; " second, that " being 
 bred at Oxford or Cambridge did not make a man fit to 
 be a minister of Christ." Following this light he left off 
 going with his relatives to their church ; neither did he go 
 to that of the Dissenters ; but went into the fields with 
 his Bible alone, and quoted in his defence the words : 
 " Ye need no man to teach you, for the anointing teaches 
 you." The next revelation was that " God did not dwell 
 in temples made with hands," which seemed at first strange, 
 because priests and people called their temples or churches 
 Holy Places, Temples of God, and Holy Ground. He felt 
 now certain that there was an inward anointing in every 
 man to teach him. He also had great openings about 
 the Book of Revelations ; and when people said, " That 
 is a sealed book," he answered, " Christ can open the 
 seals." 
 
 In these times all sorts of notions were fermenting in 
 people's minds. George Fox met some who thought 
 women had no souls (some people think so still !), whom 
 he rebuked, saying that Mary said: "My soul doth 
 magnify the Lord." He also met people who believed 
 in dreams. He told them that they ought to distin- 
 guish between three kinds of dreams — " dreams which 
 come of multitude of business, dreams which come of 
 
304 EVENTS AND EPOCHS IN EELIGIOUS HISTORY. 
 
 whisperings of Satan, and dreams which are utterances 
 of God." 
 
 George Fox had now taken again to travelling about 
 from place to place, and it appears he had also adopted 
 his singular costume of leather, — a dress he chose, says 
 Sewall, partly for its simplicity and partly because it 
 needed but little mending. He travelled not to see people 
 but rather to avoid seeing them, and was alone in crowds. 
 He sometimes met with " tender people," but his troubles 
 continued. He fasted much, walked abroad in solitary 
 places, many days took his Bible and sat in hollow trees 
 and lonesome places till night came on, and frequently 
 walked mournfully by himself all night. He says : — 
 
 '' I was a man of sorrows in the time of the first workings 
 
 of the Lord in me Though my exercises and troubles 
 
 were great, they were not so continual but I had some in- 
 termissions, and was sometimes brought into a heavenly joy. 
 As I cannot declare the misery I was in, so neither can I set 
 forth the mercies of God unto me in all my misery. Thou, 
 Lord, makest a fruitful field a barren wilderness, and a barren 
 wilderness a fruitful field ! Thou bringest down and settest up! 
 Thou killest and makest alive ! All honor and glory be to thee, 
 Lord of Glory. The knowledge of thee in the spirit is life, 
 but the knowledge which is fleshly works death. While there 
 is this knowledge in the flesh, deceit and self will conform to 
 nnything, and say Yes, Yes, to that it doth not know. The 
 knowledge which the world hath of what the apostles and 
 prophets spoke, is a fleshly knowledge ; and the apostates from 
 that life in which these apostles were, have got their words — 
 the Holy Scriptures — in a form, but not in the life or spirit 
 which gave them forth." 
 
 Though George Fox turned from the priests of the 
 Church to the Dissenters, he found no man that could 
 speak to his condition ; and when all hope in them and 
 
GEORGE FOX AND THE QUAKERS. 305 
 
 in all men was gone, then he lieard a voice wlucli said : 
 "There is one, even Christ Jesus, whieli can speak to thy 
 condition." He says : — 
 
 " WljL'ii I heard it, my heart leapt for joy. My desires for 
 tlie pure knowledge of Ood grew stronger, and I sought for it 
 without the help of any book, man, or writing. For though 
 I had read the Scriptures which spoke of Christ and God, yet I 
 knew hiui only by the (inward) revelation, as the Father of life 
 led me to his Son. So he gently led me on and let me see his 
 love, which was endless and eternal, surpassing all the knowl- 
 edge that men have in the natural state, or can get by history 
 or books. I was afraid of all company, for I saw perfectly what 
 they were, through the love of God which made me see myself. 
 I had not fellowship with any |)Cople, priests or professors, but 
 with Christ only who hath the key. In my deepest misery the 
 Lord kept me in hope, for I saw how Christ was tempted by 
 the same Devil. The Lord did stay my desires upon himself. 
 Therefore all wait patiently on the Lord, whatsoever condition 
 ye are in ! Wait in the grace and truth that come by Jesus, 
 for if ye so do, there is a promise for you, and the Lord will 
 fulfil it in you ! I have found it so, — praised be the Lord 
 who filleth the hungry with food ! When at any time my con- 
 dition was veiled, my secret belief was stayed firm, and hope 
 underneath held me, as an anchor in the bottom of the sea, 
 causing my soul to swim above the sea and the world." 
 
 At this time also, 1647, it was revealed to him that the 
 natures of those things which are hurtful without, were in 
 the hearts and minds of wicked men, — as the natures of 
 dogs, swine, vipers, of Sodom and Egypt, of Pharaoh, Cain, 
 Ishmael, Esau. He said : — 
 
 " Why should I be thus, seeing I was never addicted to 
 commit those evils'? The Lord answered that it was needful 
 that I should have a sense of all conditions ; how else should I 
 speak to all conditions'? In this I saw the infinite love of God. 
 
 20 
 
306 EVENTS AND EPOCHS IN RELIGIOUS HISTORY. 
 
 I saw also that there was an ocean of darkness and death, but 
 an infinite ocean of light find love which flowed over the ocean 
 of darkness. The Lord showed me also that people and pro- 
 fessors trample on the Word of Life ; they feed upon words and 
 feed one another on words ; and live in their airy notions, talk- 
 ing of Christ. It seemed strange to me that I should feed on 
 what the high professors trampled on." 
 
 So by degrees Fox was brought through this ocean of 
 darkness and death, and his troubles began to wear off ; 
 tears of joy dropped from him in humility of heart ; he 
 saw into that which has no end, — the greatness and 
 infiniteness of the love of God which cannot be expressed 
 by words. Still, temptations sometimes returned. 
 
 " One morning as I was sitting by the fire a great cloud 
 came over me, a temptation beset me, and I sat still. It was 
 said, ' All things come by nature,' and the elements and stars 
 came over me so that I was in a manner quite clouded by it ; 
 but as I sat still and said nothing, the people of the house per- 
 ceived nothing. And as I sat still under it and let it alone, a 
 living hope and a true voice arose in me, which said, ' There is 
 a living God, which made all things.' Immediately the cloud 
 and the temptation vanished away, and life rose over it all. 
 My heart was glad, and I praised the living God. After some 
 time I met some people who maintained that all things came 
 by nature. I had a great dispute with them and overcame 
 them ; and then I saw that it was good that I had gone through 
 that exercise." 
 
 Now Fox began to preach, in 1648, and there were 
 others who sympathized with him in this desire to look in- 
 wardly for Christ and not outwardly to books and preachers. 
 No doubt there was a preparation in the public mind for 
 these views. Men were tired of endless disputes about 
 doctrine, tired of the hard Puritanic orthodoxy around 
 them, weary of the religion of outward profession and of 
 
GEORGE FUX AND THE QUAKIiliS. 3()7 
 
 the letter of Scripture. Protestantism had run to seed in 
 England in a multitude of religious sects and opinions, and 
 it was not strange tliat there should be many who lon<»ed 
 to fall back from all tliese controversies and disputes, upon 
 some deeper and more interior convictions. 
 
 " Now," says Fox, " I was come up in spirit, through the 
 flaming sword, into the paradise of God. All things were 
 new, and the creation gave another smell unto me than before, 
 beyond what words can utter. I knew nothing but pure- 
 ness, innocency and righteousness ; being renewed up into 
 the image of God l^y Christ Jesus, so tliat I was come to 
 the state of Adam before the I'all." He adds lliat the cre- 
 ation was opened to him and the virtue of things revealed, 
 so that he doubted whether he ought not to practise physic 
 for the good of mankind, — seeing that the virtues of things 
 were thus shown to him ; but soon he was taught in the 
 spirit that there was a higher state than that of Adam 
 before the fall, even a state in Christ Jesus that could 
 not fall. 
 
 About this time it was revealed to him that the three 
 professions of law, physic, and divinity were all away from 
 true knowledge : the priests were outside of tlie true fliith 
 wliich purities and gives victory ; the lawyers outside of 
 true justice and the law of God ; and physicians outside 
 of the wisdom of God in which all creatures were made, 
 so as not to understand the virtues and properties of tilings. 
 God's power, however, he saw might reform them all if 
 they would receive it. The priests might be brought into 
 the true faith ; the lawyers into the law of God wliich lets 
 a man see that when he wrongs another he wrongs him- 
 self; and the physicians into the wisdom of God so as to 
 understand the nature of thinirs. He saw also that thou<di 
 the priests did err, they were not the greatest deceivers 
 spoken of in Scripture; but those were, who, like Korah 
 
308 EVENTS AND EPOCHS IN RELIGIOUS HISTORY. 
 
 and Abiram and Balaam, had some knowledge of God's 
 voice, and yet through covetousness had turned away from 
 it. He also saw that most men, in reading the Scriptures, 
 cry out against Cain, Esau, and Judas, but do not see the 
 nature of Cain and Judas in themselves. They say : " It 
 was they ; " but when they see the wild nature of Ish- 
 mael in themselves they say : " 1 am Ishmael, — I am 
 Judas." 
 
 He also saw tiiat by reading the Scriptures aright we 
 find the history of the Old and New Testament in our- 
 selves. Death reigns in us from Adam to Moses, — that 
 is, from the time we commit our first sin till we come 
 under the law which restrains sin ; then, going through 
 the ministry of Moses, we come to the Prophets, and their 
 types and shadows, down to John the Baptist, whose 
 ministration in us prepares for Christ's entrance into our 
 souls. 
 
 Fox soon learned that tlie sects could not bear to be told 
 that we can come in this life even to the perfection of 
 Adam before the fall, much less that we can grow up into 
 the " measure of the stature of the fulness of Christ." 
 
 Being now firmly established himself in his deepest 
 convictions, he felt himself able and called upon to 
 proclaim them to others. He thus describes his own 
 mission : — 
 
 " I was sent to turn people from the darkness to the light, 
 that they might receive Christ Jesus. I was to direct them to 
 the Spirit which gave forth the Scriptures, by which they might 
 be led into all truth and up to Christ and God, as those were 
 who gave them forth. I saw that Christ died for all men, and 
 that the grace of God which brings salvation had appeared to 
 all men, and that the manifestation of the spirit was given 
 to every man to profit withal. These things I saw not by the 
 Letter, though they are written in the Letter, but by the im- 
 
GEORGE FOX AND THE QUAKERS. 309 
 
 mediate Spirit of the Lord Jesus ; yet I had no sliglit esteem 
 for the Holy Scriptures, for I was in the same Spirit hy whlcli 
 they were given forth. Many volumes could be written of 
 what was opened to me ; but all would be too little to set forth 
 the infinite wisdom and love of God in prej)aring and furnish- 
 ing me for the service to which he had appointed me, letting 
 me see the depth of Satan on the one hand, and o[)euin<'' on the 
 other the divine mysteries of His Kingdom." 
 
 § 3. Re (joes forth teaching the Doctrine of the Universal 
 Inner Light. — CJeorgu Fux then went out to teach men 
 that there was iu nil their hearts, if they would attend to 
 it, some manifestation of God, some inward light ; and by- 
 attending to it they would have more. He was to bring 
 them from all liiiman churches and religious, worshijis and 
 forms, to worship God speaking in their own hearts. 
 
 At this time also the Lord showed Fox that lie was 
 not to put off his hat to any person, and was to "thee 
 and thou " all men. This, he says, created the greatest 
 possible rage everywhere. He also went about testifying 
 against common sins of all sorts, — drunkenness, vain 
 pleasures and amusements ; but the black earthly spirit of 
 the priests wounded his very heart, and when he heard the 
 bell toll to call people to " the steeple-house," it struck at 
 his life. Thus at Nottiui^ham he went into a church on 
 Sunday ; and all the people seemed to him like fallow 
 ground, and the priest like a great lump of earth in the 
 pulpit. The priest's text was, " We have a more sure 
 word of prophecy," which he said was the Scriptures ; but 
 Fox stood u]i and cried : " Oh no ! it is the Holy Spirit 
 who gave the Scriptures, for the Jews had the Scriptures 
 yet persecuted Christ ; and all things are to be tested, not 
 by the Scriptures, but by the Holy Spirit." When he 
 spoke the officers took him. and put him into a dirty 
 prison; but the sheriff's wife was moved to sympathy, and 
 
310 EVENTS AND EPOCHS IN RELIGICUS HISTORY. 
 
 the sheriff himself became a convert, and so after a while 
 Fox was set at liberty. 
 
 Various adventures befell him in his travels. It was 
 the year 1649, in which Charles I. was executed. At one 
 place he cured a maniac by commanding her in the name 
 of the Lord to be quiet. At Mansfield, for speaking in the 
 church, he was cruelly beaten and stoned out of town. At 
 Barrow he disputed with some Baptists, and asked them 
 whether their mountain of sin was brouglit low and the 
 rough places in their hearts made smooth by baptism, as 
 John Baptist had commanded ; and also who baptized 
 John Baptist, or Peter and John and the other apostles, 
 and asked them to prove by Scripture that these were ever 
 baptized by water. At Coventry he went into a gaol to 
 speak to some violent fanatics who said that they were 
 God, and inquired if they knew whether it would rain to- 
 morrow, and whether they thought they should always be 
 in that condition. When they answered that they could 
 not tell, he said : " God can tell, and so you cannot be 
 God." A great power of darkness struck at him while he 
 was talking with them, and he perceived that they were 
 Ranters. At one place, while he was speaking, a man came 
 raging with a naked rapier in his hand, and put its point 
 against Fox's side. Fox looked steadfastly at him and 
 said : " Alack for thee, poor creature ! what wilt thou do 
 with thy carnal weapon ? It is no more to me than a 
 straw," — at w^hich he went away. At Britland he found 
 a priest who saw beyond the common sort and had spoken 
 for the truth, but he choked himself with the parsonage. 
 At Derby, Fox was taken before the magistrates again for 
 speaking in church; but to their questions he said that 
 they "must not dispute of God and Christ but obey them, 
 and this power of God thundered among them, and they 
 did fiy like chaff before it ; " but they sent him to prison 
 
GEOUCi: vox AND THE QUAKERS. 311 
 
 all the same. There lie took to letter- writinj,^ a husiness 
 he afterward iiuich iollowed. At this time he wrote letters 
 to the priests, tlie magistrates, to liarton, a justice, to Jus- 
 tice Bennett, to Justice BarUjn again, to the Mayor, to the 
 Court, to the bell-ringers, and several " Epistles Catholic " 
 to the Friends everywhere. This Justice Bennett of 
 Derby v. as the first that gave them the name of Q takers, 
 because Fox bade liiin tremble at the word of (Jnd. His 
 friends ofiering to be l>oiind ibr him, he refused it, and said 
 to the Justice: " Would you have me bound to my good 
 beliavior? I am bound to my good behavior." Finding 
 he had not cleareil his conscience yet of the priests or the 
 justices, he continued writing letters of rebuke and warn- 
 ing to them until they were completely off his mind. 
 Fox showed the justices how corrupt the prisoners made 
 each other by talking together of their evil deeds ; and a 
 young woman being condemned to death for stealing, he 
 wrote to the judge and jury that it was contrary to God's 
 law to put peoi)le to death for such a crime. They wanted 
 to press him for a soldier, and offered him money to enlist; 
 but Fox told them he was bought off from outward wars, 
 and dead to them. 
 
 After he had been in prison a year they let him go. At 
 Litchfield he went up and down the streets barefoot, crying 
 with a loud voice : " Woe to the bloody city of Litchfield ; " 
 and, as he walked, the streets seemed to him to be run- 
 nini; with blood. He did not himself understand till 
 afterward what this meant, for Litchfield was no worse 
 than other cities. At last he thought it was becau.se of 
 martyrs formerly slain there, whose memorial he was to 
 raise. At some ])laces he met with i)eople who were 
 " notionists," and others who were very tender and loving. 
 At York he told the congregntion and minister that they 
 lived in W4)rds, but that the Lord looked for fruit from 
 
312 EVENTS AND EPOCHS IN RELIGIOUS HISTORY. 
 
 them. At Cleveland he found Quakers who had turned 
 Eanters, and he told them that they did not " wait upon 
 God to feel his power to gather their minds inward, but 
 had spoken themselves dry." To one Ranter he said, 
 "Eepent, thou beast," — for looking at him he saw the 
 nature of a beast distinctly in him. Some priests were 
 convinced by him ; others fled before him, for his words 
 shook the earthly and airy spirit in which they wor- 
 shipped, so that it was a dreadful thing to them when it 
 was told them, " The man in leather breeches has come." 
 He wished to speak in steeple-houses, and a concern came 
 upon his mind about the pulpits the priests lolled in. 
 Some of the ministers took him by the hand, and invited 
 him to speak to the congregations. One old priest went 
 with Fox everywhere, and when the people offered ]?im his 
 tithes refused to take them. 
 
 § 4. His Siifferings and Persecutions. — In many places 
 he was beaten and abused by the riotous multitude. Once 
 a mason struck his arm with a rule, and lamed it so that 
 he could not move it ; but looking at it in the love of God, 
 the power of God sprang through his hand and arm so 
 that he recovered its strength again. Again, forty men 
 attacked him with clubs and fishing-poles and tried to 
 push him into the sea, and knocked him down and stunned 
 him. When he came to himself he found a woman t!irow- 
 ing stones at his liead, and her husband lying over him to 
 keep them off. In a certain village he cast his eyes upon 
 a woman, and saw that slie liad an unclean spirit and told 
 her so, at which the people marvelled, for it was well 
 known that she was a wicked woman. At another time 
 he cast his eye upon a woman who stood at a distance, 
 and said, " Tiiou hast been a harlot ! " — for he perfectly 
 saw her condition and life, — to wliich she answered, 
 " Many can tell me of my outward sins, but none my 
 
GEORGE FOX AND THE QUAKERS. 313 
 
 inward sins." Fox told her that her heart was not riglit 
 toward God, and lioiu the inward sin came the outward. 
 She afterwards was converted and became a Friend. A 
 Baptist deacon interruptint; liim, Fox fixed his eyes upon 
 him and spoke sharply to him in the power of the Lord, 
 till he cried : " Do not pierce me so with thine eyes, — 
 keep thine eyes olf me." At Drayton, his native place, he 
 disi)uted publicly with eight priests, and so confounded 
 them that his father, though a follower of their church, 
 struck his cane upon the ground ami said : " Truly ! I see 
 if one will but stand by the Truth it will bear him out." 
 In 1G54 Fox was taken by order of Cromwell to London, 
 and, as many plots were in agitation against the Protector, 
 Cromwell required Fox to promise not to take up a carnal 
 sword against him or his government, which Fox readily 
 agreed to. He had a personal interview with Cromwell, 
 which he thus describes : — 
 
 " When I came in I was moved to say, ' Peace be in this 
 house,' and I exhorted him to keep in the fear of God that he 
 might receive wisdom from him. I had great discourse with 
 him about religion, wherein he carried himself very moderately ; 
 but he said that we quarrelled with the priests, whom he called 
 ministers. I told him tliat I did not quarrel with them, — 
 they quarrelled with me ; but I showed him that the Prophets 
 and Christ declared against such teachers and 8hei)herds. As I 
 spoke, he several times said tl^.at it was very good, — it was 
 the truth. Many more words I had with him ; but people 
 coming in, I drew a little back. As I was turning he catched 
 me by the hand, and with tears in his eyes said : * Come again 
 to my house, for if thou and I were but an hour of a day to- 
 gether, we should be nearer one to the other.' " 
 
 So Fox was set at liberty. They brought him dinner, 
 but he refused it, telling them to say to Cromwell that he 
 would "not eat of his bread;" on which Cromwell was 
 
31J: EVENTS AND EPOCHS IN RELIGIOUS HISTORY. 
 
 reported to have replied : " Now I see there is a people 
 risen whom I cannot win either with gifts, offices, honors, 
 or places ; but all other sects and people I can." Not- 
 withstanding all this, Fox was afterward imprisoned by 
 order of the Chief Justice upon a charge of vagrancy, and 
 placed in one of those abominable dungeons so common in 
 England down to the time of John Howard. The jailer, 
 who had been a thief, treated Fox and his companions 
 with unnecessary brutality. One of the Friends went to 
 CromwxU and offered to be imprisoned in the place of Fox. 
 After a while he was released. 
 
 So for many years Fox continued his travels. He went 
 through England, Wales, and Scotland. He persuaded 
 some persons who were to set up a college to make min- 
 isters of Christ, not to do so, telling them that " to teach 
 men Hebrew, Greek, and Latin," was not the way " to make 
 them ministers of Christ, for the languages began at 
 Babel." He had also an argument with a Jesuit. The 
 Jesuit tried to prove Transubstantiation by the words 
 " This is my body." Fox replied ': " Christ says he is a 
 Vine and a Door, and he is called a Eock. Is Christ, then, 
 an outward Vine or Door or Eock?" The Jesuit answered, 
 " Those words are to be spiritually interpreted." " So," 
 said Fox, " are these, — ' This is my body.' " Then Fox 
 proposed that a bottle of wine and a loaf of bread should 
 be brought and divided into two parts ; one part should be 
 consecrated by the Eomish priest, and all be shut up safely, 
 to see if the consecrated bread would not mould and the 
 consecrated wine sour as soon as the other ; for he argued 
 that Christ's body w^as immortal and could not decay. Fox 
 wrote to Cromwell, exhorting him to faithfulness ; and also 
 in the following manner to Mrs. Claypole, Cromwell's favor- 
 ite daughter, who was sick at this time, and so troubled in 
 mind that none could administer any relief to her : — 
 
GEORGE FOX AND THE QUAKERS. 315 
 
 "Friend, — lie still uikI cool in thy own iiiiiid uud spirit, 
 from thy own thoughts, and thou tlien wilt feel the principle of 
 God, to turn thy mind to tlie Lord (jod from whom life comes, 
 whereby thou nr.iycst receive his strength and power to allay 
 all storms. This it is which works uj) into patience, innoceuc}', 
 soberness, quietness, up to (iod with his power." 
 
 When this vvius read to licr, and nuicli more of this sort, 
 she said that it " staid her mind lur the present." After 
 Cromwell's death and the liestoration of Charles II., Fox 
 wrote to the latter interceding for the Friends in prison. 
 This document asserts that up to that time 3173 F'riends 
 had been im[)risoned in the name of the Common wealth, 
 of whom 73 were still in prison ; that during the govern- 
 ment of the Commonwealth and the Crom wells, 32 Friends 
 had died in prison ; and that since Charles's accession, in 
 two years, 30G8 F'riends had been imprisoned, chiefly for 
 refusing from conscientious motives to take the oath of 
 allegiance. This petition had little eHect. Fox himself 
 was imprisoned this same year at Leicester, where he 
 preached to the j)risoners. The Quakers were at this time 
 much persecuted for frequenting religious meetings, refus- 
 ing the oaths, and not paying tithes. 
 
 At Lancaster also, in 1004, Fox was tried and ini- 
 prisoned for refusing the oath. He showed great pres- 
 ence of mind and njadiness at his trial. He was indicted 
 for having refused to take an oath, and found guilty ; 
 but when the Judge asked him what he had to say wliy 
 sentence should not be passed u)»on him, he pointed out 
 several errors in the indictment. He had not been named 
 as a subject ; the indictment stated that the oath had been 
 tendered to him at the sessions on tlie lltli of January, 
 but the almanac showed tliat the sessions did not co'.n- 
 mence till the 12th of January; the indictment called it 
 the loth year of the King, when it was in fact the 10th, 
 
316 EVENTS AND EPOCHS IN RELIGIOUS HISTORY. 
 
 dating from the death of Charles I. So the Judge was 
 obliged to declare that he was at liberty ; but said, " I can 
 put the oath to any man here, and I will tender it to you 
 again." Fox said, " You had examplas enough yesterday 
 of false swearing in the justices and jury who swore that 
 the errors of the indictment were truths." The Judge 
 asked, " Will you take the oath ? " Fox said, " Do me 
 justice for my false imprisonment; I ought to be set at 
 liberty." The Judge rejoined : " You are at liberty, but 
 I put the oath to you again. Give him the book ! " Fox 
 says : — 
 
 " Then the power of darkness rose up in them like a mountain, 
 and the clerk gave me the book. I said, ' 1 see this is a Bible, 
 and I am glad of it ; ' so I looked the Judge in the face, and 
 the witness of God started up in him and made him blush 
 when he looked at me again ; but he hardened himself and 
 causedthe oath to be read to me. I said, ' Ye have given me 
 here a Book to kiss and to swear on, and this Book says, Kiss the 
 Son, and the Sou says. Swear not at all I I say as the Book 
 says ; yet ye imprison me. Why do ye not imprison the Book 
 for saying so 1 How comes it that the Book is at liberty among 
 you which bids me not to swear, and yet ye imprison me for 
 doing as the Book bids me T " 
 
 Fox was kei)t in Lancaster prison till the next assizes ; 
 then found guilty and sent to Scarborough Castle, where 
 he suffered much for a year. A Dr. Witty came to argue 
 with him, and asserted that Christ had not enliohtened all 
 
 O 
 
 men that came into the world, nor died for all men. 
 
 "Whom has he not enlightened and died for?" said Fox. 
 " Idolaters and wicked men." — " Are not idolaters and 
 wicked men sinners ? " Witty said, " Yes." " And did 
 not Christ die fur sinners? Did he not call sinners to 
 repentance ? " 
 
 In 1671 Fox sailed for America. On tlie way they were 
 
GEORGE FOX AND THE QUAKERS. 317 
 
 chased by a pirate, but it was revealed to Fox that the 
 Lord would put his power between them. They stopi)ed at 
 Barbadoes where he exhorted the Friends to treat tlie negroes 
 kindly and set theni free after some years' service, and to 
 train them up meantime in the fear of God. From thence 
 he sailed to Jamaica and then to Maryland. He went by 
 land to New England, holding meetings by the way. He 
 was particularly pleased with the state of things in lihode 
 Island. After staying tliere some time, he travelled back 
 thi'ough New York, New Jersey, Maryland, Virginia, the 
 Carolinas, and in 1673 returned to England. After this 
 he was imprisoned at Worcester, but soon released, and he 
 then paid a visit to Holland. In 1684 he visited the Con- 
 tinent a second time ; and after his return, being worn with 
 labors and sufferings, he lived more retired, though still 
 active till his death, which took place in 1690, in the sixty- 
 seventh year of his age. He preached in meeting in London 
 just before his death. During his sickness he showed great 
 contentment and resignation, saying, "x\ll is well; the seed 
 of God reigns over all." Four or five hours before his 
 death he said, " The power of God is over all sickness and 
 death." 
 
 Fox was tall and large in stature, with a powerful voice, 
 — "a man," says Sewall, "of a deep understanding and a 
 discerning spirit ; and though his words were not always 
 linked together by a neat grammatical connection, and 
 that his speech seemed a1)ru])t, with a kind of a gap, yet 
 he expressed himself intelligently." 
 
 §5. Character of Fox. Source of his Influence. — George 
 Fox, judged by his writings, was a man of poor intellect, — 
 narrow, meagre, without the least touch of fancy or imagi- 
 nation. It was by the depth and concentration of his 
 mind, not by any mental aflluence, that he accomplished 
 so much. His soul was absorbed in those few ideas 
 
318 EVENTS AND EPOCHS IN RELIGIOUS HISTORY. 
 
 which seemed to him the sum of this life and substance of 
 the next. He walked through the world like a man in a 
 dream, seeing little that was going on around him, and 
 knowing only his own thoughts. He lived in the most 
 extraordinary period of British history, a time full of the 
 greatest events ; but it does not appear from his volumi- 
 nous writings that he was aware of this. He saw, or might 
 have seen, the rise, triumph, defeat, and reappearance 
 of British Constitutional Liberty ; the tyrannical acts of 
 Charles I. ; the resistance of Hampden ; the English Eevo- 
 lution; the battles of Marston Moor and Naseby; the Long 
 Parliament; the protectorates of Cromwell and his son; 
 the Eestoration of Charles II. ; the reign of James 11. ; and 
 the Ee volution of 10 88. All occurred under his eyes, and 
 he does not seeui to have noticed any of them. He was a 
 contemporary of Milton, Jeremy Taylor, Tillotson, Locke, 
 Newton, Leibnitz, but you would never know from his writ- 
 inu;s that such men had existed. With their work he had 
 nothing to do, but his own work he did nobl}^ In an age 
 of speculative religion, of opinion and profession, he taught 
 the need of a profound personal acquaintance with God as 
 the all in all. He taught that all can have this light, that 
 it comes to all, and can be seen by all if they do not suffer 
 their attention to be distracted by outward things. From 
 this simple idea of the inward light he deduced all the other 
 doctrines which Barclay and Penn afterwards elaborated 
 into the complete system of Quakerism. It is noticeable 
 in reading the life of Fox that so lofty a system has orig- 
 inated in so small a mind. Bancroft the historian con- 
 siders the system of Fox to contain the highest intel- 
 lectual philosophy, equivalent to tlie doctrines of Plato 
 and Descartes : — 
 
 " Quakerism rests on the reality of the inner light ; and its 
 method of inquiry is absohite freedom apphed to consciousness. 
 
GEORGE FOX AND THE QUAKKKS. 319 
 
 So it coincided with that of Descartes and his disciples; but 
 Descartes phniged immediately into the confusion of hypothesis, 
 driftinfx to sea to he wrecked amon<jc the hnrren waves of onto- 
 logical specidation ; and even Leihnitz, coiijident in his genius 
 and his learning, lost his way among the monads of creation, 
 and the pre-established harmonies of this best of all possible 
 worlds. But the illiterate Quaker adhered strictly to his 
 method. Like the timid navigators of old who carefully kept 
 near the shore, he never ventured to sea except witii the cer- 
 tain guidance of the cynosure in his heart. He set no value on 
 learning. Tradition cannot enjoin a ceremony, much less es- 
 tablish a doctrine ; historical faith is as the old heavens that 
 are to be w'rapt up as a scroll." 
 
 § 6. Doctrines of Quakerism as developed hj Barclay and 
 Penn. — Religion usually begins as a life in the soul, and 
 afterwards develops into a theology. Life first; thought 
 afterward. Light does not produce life, but life is the light 
 of men. Quakerism was no exception to this rule. It began 
 in a profound living sense of the immediate presence of God 
 in the soul. Fox struggled at first alone ; alone he went 
 through the dark valley of the shadow of spiritual death. 
 Out of those depths of despair he cried to God ; alone with 
 God, he found light and peace in the sense of the divine 
 nearness, not to his soul alone, but to all souls. That 
 was the beginning of Quakerism. The next step was his 
 longing to publish this good news, and out of the fulness 
 of his heart his mouth began to speak. Then came the 
 necessity of thinking out what was to be said. Life began 
 to become light, and doctrine came. This was the second 
 step. As preachers multiplied and as this new doctrine 
 was opposed, it was necessary to state it with some pre- 
 cision, so as to defend it against antagonists and to give 
 some unity to its teaching. This was theology, and the 
 Quaker theologians arrived on the scene. The earliest 
 
320 EVENTS AND EPOCHS IN RELIGIOUS HISTORY. 
 
 and best were William Penn and Robert Barclay. The 
 tirst wrote tracts against the then commonly received 
 views about Depravity, the Atonement, and the Trinity ; 
 which tracts were published under the titles, " The Sandy 
 Foundation Shaken " and " No Cross, no Crown." Robert 
 Barclay was a systematic theologian, and his work, " Bar- 
 clay's Apology," has been the text-book and manual of the 
 Quakers ever since. 
 
 The doctrines of the Society of the Friends may be 
 briefly summed up thus : — 
 
 1. To know God is the only salvation, and God can only be 
 known by his revelation of himself by his Spirit in the heart. 
 This revelation in the heart is its own evidence. It is in 
 harmony with reason and Scripture, but not to be tested by 
 either. 
 
 2. The Scriptures are neither the source of divine knowledge, 
 nor an adequate primary rule of faith or practice ; but as a 
 secondary rule, subordinate to the Spirit, they are to be revered 
 and used. 
 
 3. The salvation of Christ is not only meant for all but act- 
 ually comes to all. He is the true light which lightens every 
 man who cometh into the world, not a light outwardly, but 
 within the soul. 
 
 4. This light is darkened by sin ; but by living in the quiet, 
 and in a desire to know God's truth and do it, it becomes 
 visible to the soul as teacher and guide. Then the heart is 
 renewed, and does not obey evil but good, and grows up into 
 perfect love. 
 
 5. The essence of worship, preaching, and sacraments, con- 
 sists in their inward spirit ; and they are rightly performed 
 when we are led by the spirit of God, and not by our own will 
 and choice. 
 
 This doctrine of an inward light in all men has been 
 held by the mystics generally, and has been a useful pro- 
 
GEORGE FOX AND THE QUAKERS. 321 
 
 test against narrow dogmatism, sectarianism, and church- 
 ism. It gives dignity to the human soul ; breaking down 
 the distinctions of caste, rank, sect, piiestliood, sex, — in 
 tlie presence of Christ. It tends to Christian lil)erty, 
 equality, and brotherhood. It is Christianity according to 
 the spirit, ncjt the letter. 
 
 Mr. Bancroft finds the ideas of the Quakers in " the pro- 
 found eloquence of Ilousseau," " the masculine ])liih)Sopliy 
 of Kant," and " the poetry of Schiller, Coleridge, Lamartine, 
 and Wordswortli." 
 
 § 7. Snhscqucnt History. Follmvcrs of Fox. Testimony 
 of Mochler, Charles Lamb, Frederiek Maurice, and Whit- 
 ticr. — The convictions of George Fox spread rapidly, 
 and raised a number of preachers who were as earnest 
 and l)old as their master. Francis Howgill, educated as 
 an Independent preacher, renounced Calvinism, accepted 
 the odium of the new doctrine, and, refusing to take 
 the oath of allegiance, liad l)is goods confiscated, and 
 was sentenced to imprisonment for life. lie died in 
 prison. 
 
 Edward Burroughs was one of the boldest preachers of 
 the Inner Light. He preached in the streets and fields to 
 low and high. He was " a breaker of stony hearts." " To 
 thunder against sin was his talent, one of the valiants 
 whose sword never was turned back in the day of battle," 
 says Sewall. He wrote letters to Cromwell, disputed with 
 'Jesuits, preached to monks and soldiers, and died in New- 
 gate prison. 
 
 Myles Halhead was beaten at Kendal, left for dead at 
 Shipton, sorely bruised at Doncaster. 
 
 Barbara Blangdon testified in church, and was impris- 
 oned and whij)ped for interrupting the service, but sang 
 and tlianked God during her sufferings. Some of the 
 Friends went to liome to convert the Pope ; otliers to Con- 
 
 21 
 
322 EVENTS AND EPOCHS IN RELIGIOUS HISTORY. 
 
 stantinople to convert the Sultan. No place could escape 
 their visits. They considered themselves missionaries to 
 the human race. They visited the Indians in their cabins 
 and lived with them, as the Jesuits did in Canada ; " and," 
 said they, " the poor savage people believed in God with- 
 out metaphysics." They bought a territory in West New 
 Jersey and settled it, and then William Penn obtained 
 from Charles IT. the territory of Pennsylvania, instead of a 
 claim on the English government for £16,000, bequeathed 
 to Penn by his father, the Admiral. Charles gave him a 
 charter, extending over three degrees of latitude and five 
 of lon2;itude. 
 
 Penn was educated at Oxford, had travelled, and then 
 was converted to the Quaker doctrine. " William," said 
 his father, " has become a Quaker, or some such melan- 
 choly thing," — and turned him out of his house. He was 
 threatened with imprisonment for life unless he would 
 recant. " My prison," said he, " shall be my grave." He 
 stayed in the Tower nine months. Then his father 
 relented, and the Duke of York, his father's friend, ob- 
 tained his release. A year after he was arrested again, 
 for speaking at a Quaker meeting. In spite of the orders 
 of the judge, the jury found him "Not guilty." The 
 jury were fined forty marks each, and Penn was sent to 
 prison again ; but his father paid his fine, and said when 
 dying : " Son William, — if you and your Friends keep 
 to your plain way of speaking, you will make an end of 
 the priests." 
 
 This prophecy has not been fulfilled. Penn's colony 
 flourished. He treated the Indians as brothers, and lived 
 at peace with them. The Quakers grew rich, for the meek 
 inherit tlie earth in the long run ; but the Society of 
 Friends has remained small; it does not grow. It lias had 
 a noble record. It has set an example of many of the best 
 
GEORGE FOX AND THE QUAKERS. 323 
 
 Christian virtues, — honesty, peace, toleration, charity. It 
 has encoura<,'ed education, taken care of its poor, avoided 
 extravagance in dress and other expenses. It has prac- 
 tised and taught simplicity of manners, equality and hu- 
 man brotherhood, freedom for all. It has dune better still, 
 — it has produced some of the best men and women. The 
 common life of the Quaker homes is full of sweetness and 
 strength ; and if we ask for anytliing more distinguished, 
 such names as Whittier and Lucretia Motte immediately 
 suggest themselves. 
 
 Ijut the Society of Friends has not grown as a sect, and 
 does not grow, and so seems to lack one element of life. 
 It is also wanting in elasticity, receptivity, and a desire 
 for progress. Protesting in its origin against all forms, it 
 has been one of the most formal of societies. Perhaps the 
 explanation is that it was not meant to be a church or 
 sect, but a leaven to influence other sects. In that sense 
 its influence has been great and beneficial. 
 
 Moehler, the Catholic, says of the Quakers : — 
 
 "Among the Quakers we discover an interior piety which, 
 when we can succeed in forgetting now and then the utter per- 
 verscness of the whole system, marvellously cheers and rcfreslies, 
 and even at times deeply moves the mind. Moreover, we find 
 among them a conscientious and firm prosecution of the point 
 of view which they have once adopted ; a consistency extremely 
 pleasing and cheering, which flinches from no consequences. 
 All parts of the system stand in the most harmonious pro- 
 portion with each other, forming a fine connected whole whose 
 architectural perfection leaves little to be desired. For their 
 earnest striving after an interior religion of heart and life ; 
 their fearless opposition to the spirit of the world, even when 
 that opposition is petty and pedantic ; their longing after the 
 true celestial nourishment and the inward miction by the 
 Divine Spirit ; their consciousness that in Cln'ist is imparted 
 
324 EVENTS AND EPOCHS IN RELIGIOUS HISTORY. 
 
 a power great enough not only to solace and tranquillize man 
 but truly to deliver him from all sin, — all this fills us with 
 sentiments of sincerest respect." 
 
 Let me quote also a testimony from Charles Lamb, from 
 his fine essay on the Quaker s Meeting : — 
 
 " Nothing plotting, naught caballing, unmischievous synod ! 
 Convocation without intrigue, parliament without debate ! 
 What a lesson dost thou read to council and consistory ! If 
 my pen treat of you lightly, as haply it may wander, yet my 
 spirit hath gravely felt the wisdom of your custom, when, 
 sitting among you in deepest peace, which some out welling 
 tears would rather confirm than disturb, I have reverted to 
 the times of your beginnings. I have seen the reeling sea- 
 ruffian who had wandered into your receptacle with the avowed 
 intention of disturbing your quiet, from the very spirit of the 
 place receive in a moment a new heart, and presently sit among 
 you as a lamb amid lambs. Often the meeting is broken up 
 without a word having been spoken. But you have been fed. 
 You go away with a sermon not made with hands. You have 
 been where the tongue, that fiercest and savagest of all wild 
 creatures, has strangely lain tied up and captive. You have 
 been bathed with stillness. 0, when the spirit is sore fretted, 
 even tired to sickness of the j anglings and nonsense-noises of 
 the world, what a balm and solace it is to go and seat yourself 
 for a quiet half-hour upon some undisputed corner of a bench 
 among the gentle Quakers." 
 
 Frederick Maurice also accepts the positive doctrines 
 of the Quakers, and thinks it the Catholic doctrine of 
 the Church that the Logos, or Word which was in Christ, 
 speaks to and lightens every human soul. He denies that 
 this doctrine is mystical or unscriptural, and thinks it his- 
 torically verified in what we read of Socrates and other 
 eminent men of antiquity. He thinks indeed that the 
 
GEOUGE FOX AND THE QUAKERS. 325 
 
 experiment of Quakerism lias failfd, but because of its 
 negative peculiarities rather than of its positive qualities. 
 
 I^t me close by an extract from Whittier's poem on the 
 Quaker Meeting : — 
 
 " AikI so I find it well to come 
 For dt't'pur retft to tlii.s still room, 
 For here the habit of the 8oul 
 Feels less the outer world's control ; 
 The strength of mutual purpose pleads 
 More earnestly our common needs ; 
 And from the silence multiplied 
 By these still forms on either side, 
 The world that time and sense have known 
 Falls off and leaves us God alone. 
 So to the calmly gathered thought 
 The innermost of truth is taught, 
 The mystery, dimly understood. 
 That love of God is love of good ; 
 That Book and Church and Day are given 
 For man, not Gtxl, — for earth not heaven ; 
 The blessed means to holiest ends. 
 Not masters, but benignant friends ; 
 That the dear Christ dwells not afar, 
 The King of some remoter star, 
 Listening, at times, with flattered ear 
 To homage wrung from selfish fear, 
 But here, amidst the poor and blind. 
 The bound and suffering of our kind ; 
 In works we do, in prayers we pray, 
 Life of our life, he lives to-day." 
 
326 EVENTS AND EPOCHS IN KELIGIOUS HISTOKY. 
 
 XI. 
 
 THE HUGUENOTS. 
 
 § 1. Protestantism in France until the Revocation of the 
 Edict of Nantes. — The word Huguenot is of obscure 
 origin. Probably, like many other famous names, it was 
 first applied in derision and as a nickname. Some think 
 it derived from hvguon, a provincial word meaning that 
 they held their services in the night-time. Others that 
 it came from the German Eidgenossen, that is " Confeder- 
 ates." 
 
 Whatever the origin of the name, the Huguenots are 
 the French Protestants. France did not wait for Luther 
 before producing Protestants. The chief of these Eefor- 
 mers before the Eeforniation were the Waldenses, tlie 
 Albigenses, and the inhabitants of the valleys in Dauphiny, 
 adjoining Piedmont. 
 
 The Waldenses were the followers of Peter Waldo, a 
 rich and generous merchant of Lyons in the twelfth cen- 
 tury. He was a very religious man, and had some of the 
 books of the New Testament translated for his use. He 
 gave his goods to the poor and went about preaching re- 
 pentance. His followers were called the Poor People of 
 Lyons. Tliey went to Eome to ask permission to preach, 
 though laymen ; but their request was refused without cere- 
 mony. Then they went further, and became hostile to the 
 Church which was hostile to them. They renounced their 
 
THE HUGUTi:NOTS. 327 
 
 faith in the priest, saying that the sanctity of a priest was 
 not in his profession but in his life, and that a good layman 
 was a true priest, and might not only preach but administer 
 tlie ordinances. Even women, they declared, might officiate 
 as ministers. The services of a wicked priest were of no 
 avail. They denied tlie Churcli of Rome to be the true 
 Churcli; condemned popes and prelates for engaging in 
 war ; rejected all tlie sacraments except Baptism and the 
 Supper; and also rejected prayers for the dead, purgatory, 
 indulgences, and transubstantiation. The real transubstan- 
 tiation, said they, is not in the wafer but in the soul of the 
 believer. They also denied the legality of capital puni.sh- 
 ments. Their strength consisted in their having the Scrip- 
 tures in their own language. Another book they had, 
 called " The Nol)le Lesson," which is a simple narrative 
 of Bible facts, joined with the pure morality of the Gos- 
 pel. 
 
 Persecution was the natural result of these heresies. 
 Waldo and his followers were scattered, and went every- 
 where preaching the Word. He went into Dauphiny, a 
 mountainous region in the Southeast of France, and also 
 into Picardy. His followers were singularly pure and 
 devout men. They were great students of the New Tes- 
 tament, and mighty in the Scriptures. They spread through 
 Germany, Bohemia, Switzerland, and other countries, and 
 tilled the southern part of France with their followers. 
 Tlu'y suffered persecution with the Albigenses and were 
 often confounded with them ; yet they multiplied to such 
 an extent that at the beginning of the Beformation there 
 were said to be eight hundred thousand Waldenses in 
 Europe. 
 
 ^lany of these people inhabited the valleys of the Alps 
 on the French and Italian sides. They had maintained 
 inr centuries a pure and simjde form ol" (Miristianily. From 
 
323 EVENTS AND EPOCHS IN RELIGIOUS HISTORY. 
 
 time to time during the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries, 
 Inquisitors were sent among them with soldiers. They 
 were seized and put to death as heretics, they were mur- 
 dered by thousands by order of the popes, and some of the 
 valleys were wholly depopulated ; but nothing could con- 
 vert them to the doctrines of Eome. The survivors fled 
 with their women and children to the bare bleak summits 
 of the mountains, and returned to their valleys after their 
 persecutors had gone. During five centuries of persecu- 
 tion they maintained their simple faith. They have out- 
 lived the p(.wer which hung, burned, and starved them, 
 and to-dny they have cliurches and public worship in 
 Turin, Florence, and other cities of Italy. The French 
 Ee volution, which put an end to so many other evils, put 
 an end also to the persecution of the French Protestants. 
 
 Passing by such well known events as the Bartholomew 
 Massacre under Charles IX., and the several wars of 
 relioion in France under his successors, which terminated 
 in the taking of Rochelle by Louis XIIL, I pass on to 
 subsequent events. 
 
 After the Edict of Pardon of Louis XIIL in 1629, the 
 Huguenots ceased to exist as a political body and became 
 loyal subjects, taking no part in the civil broils of the 
 time. Cardinal Mazarin frankly acknowledged the loyalty 
 of tliese Protestants, saying : " I have no fault to find with 
 this little flock ; if it browses on bad herbs, at least it does 
 not stray away." They were the most industrious people 
 in France. In Languedoc and Beam, where they were 
 most numerous, the lands were covered with grain and 
 vines, and the hill-sides with sheep. In such towns as 
 Tours and Lyons they carried on the silk manufactures ; 
 made velvets and ribbons, the finest brocades, and the 
 best cloth to be found in Europe. They established excel- 
 lent linen factories in Normandy, paper manufactories in 
 
THE HUGUENOTS. 329 
 
 Auvergne, — having in one province six hundred paper- 
 mills. They manufactured in otlier places leather, iioii, 
 and steel. The English purcliased large quantities ui" 
 these articles, valued at many nj ill ions sterling. One busi- 
 ness advantage which they had over the Catholics was 
 that, by not keeping the Catholic festivals, they had fifty 
 more working days in the year. They were also a people 
 of strong character and severe morals. The Huguenots 
 were abused in the writings of the time for their religion, 
 and called Atheists, Blasphemers, the Spawn of Hell, — 
 hut no word' was said against their virtue. One of their 
 persecutors said : " If they are bad Catholics, they are 
 good traders." The word of the Huguenot was as good as 
 liis bond, — and so the foreign trade fell into their hands 
 at Bordeaux, Rouen, and other centres of commerce. 
 
 It was in the midst of this peaceful industry, by which 
 they were enriching France, that Louis XIV., in the pride 
 of his power and the narrowness of his bigotry, decided that 
 rrutestantism must cease to exist throughout his domin- 
 ions, and tliat there should be no religion in the realm but 
 his own. Persecutions then began which culminated in 
 the Be vocation of the Edict of Nantes in 1685. Before 
 this, Louis had tried to bribe the Huguenots to become 
 Catholics, by jmying a considerable sum of money to each 
 convert. Children were taken from their parents to be 
 brought up in convents. Soldiers were quartered on the 
 Huguenot families. Their churches were burned, their 
 ministers banished, their women and children cruelly 
 abused. In this way wIkjIc provinces were apparently 
 converted. 
 
 § 2. Revocation of the Edict of Nantes, and Persecution 
 of tlie Protedants. — The Revocation of the Edict of Nantes 
 meant simply this : all the Protestant churches in France 
 were to be destroyed ; the religion was prohibited ; all 
 
330 EVENTS AND EPOCHS IN RELIGIOUS HISTORY. 
 
 Protestant pastors were banished ; all schools were closed ; 
 all the children were to be baptized and taught in the 
 Catholic religion ; and if any of the Huguenots attempted 
 to escape from France, the men were to be sent to the 
 galleys and the women imprisoned for life. 
 
 The Eoman Catholic clergy of France were wild with 
 joy. Both Bossuet and Massillon publicly blessed God 
 for "this great act of piety" of Louis XIV., — for this 
 war against peaceful people and happy homes, against the 
 innocent, industrious, and pure. 
 
 Thouoh Louis XIV. had sworn at the beijjinningf of his 
 reion to maintain the toleration of Protestants accordino^ 
 to the Edict of Henry IV., though the Protestants were 
 the most industrious, enterprising, and loyal of his sub- 
 jects, — yet his violation of his oath, and his wholesale 
 persecution of those whom he was bound to protect, re- 
 ceived the almost universal approbation of French Cath- 
 olics. The aged Chancellor who affixed the great seal 
 of France to the deed, cried out : " Lord ! now lettest thou 
 thy servant depart in peace, for mine eyes have seen thy 
 salvation." The great Bossuet called Louis the new Con- 
 stantine. The sprightly letter- writer, Madame de Sevigne, 
 wrote to a friend : " We are by no means dull here ; hang- 
 ing is quite a refreshment to me ; they have just taken 
 twenty-four or thirty of these men, and are about to turn 
 them off." These men were to be hung simply for attend- 
 ing Protestant meetings ! 
 
 Tlie savans of the French Academy, which was founded 
 by a Huguenot, publicly approved this act of revocation. 
 La Fontaine spoke of heresy as " at its last gasp." Thomas 
 Corneille eulogized the zeal of the King. Fontenelle 
 wrote a poem in praise of the Eevocation of the Edict of 
 Nantes, which received a prize from the Academy. 
 
 The common people also enjoyed pulling down churches 
 
THE HUGUENOTS. 331 
 
 and plundering Protestants. The dragoons were of course 
 pleased with living at free quarters in Protestant families. 
 
 The Church was most delighted of all. The Pope had 
 Te Deuni sung on the occasion, at St. Peter's. All France 
 seemed about to be converted. Such were the horrors per- 
 petrated by the dragoons that whole communities of Protes- 
 tants signed an abjuration to save their families from their 
 insults and atrocities. In one place five thousand Protes- 
 tants were reported as converted ; in another, ten thousand. 
 Only Fenelon, and a few other good men like him, sufr- 
 gested that this sort of conversion by force made hypo- 
 crites but not believers. 
 
 The demolition of the Protestant temples at once began. 
 One immense building near Paris, which held fourteen 
 thousand persons, was levelled to the ground. In a few 
 weeks eight hundred churches were destroyed. Horrible 
 persecutions 1)egan against all who refused to become 
 Itoman Catholics. The only resource was flight ; and the 
 frontiers were guarded by troops and vigilantly watched, 
 while ships of war cruised off the ports and searched the 
 outgoing vessels ; but nmltitudes had already escaped and 
 gone to Holland, Germany, and England. The pastors 
 having been banislied, their people prepared to follow. They 
 disposed of their factories and homes as they could ; turned 
 their property into money, and crossed the frontier by 
 avoiding the high-roads and finding their way through the 
 woods and over the mountains. They travelled by night, 
 in small parties or alone. Some were taken, bound, put 
 to death, or sent to the galleys. They were chained in 
 gangs with thieves and murderers, — old men, little boys, 
 magistrates, scholars. Tlie guards on the frontier were 
 increased ; false stories were circulated of the misery of 
 those who had reached England, — that they were starving 
 there, and bow they longed to return ; but tliis was all in 
 
332 EVENTS AND EPOCHS IN RELIGIOUS HISTORY. 
 
 vain. The emigration continued and grew larger. The 
 emigrants disguised themselves as beggars, soldiers, traders. 
 They prepared and distributed plans of the roads and the 
 hiding-places on the way, just as was done in this coun- 
 try for the slaves escaping to the North by the Under- 
 ground Railroad. Some escaped by the Forest of Ardennes, 
 some by the passes of the Jura. The women cut off their 
 hair, disfigured their faces, dressed theiiiselves like ser- 
 vants or pedlers. They drew wheelbarrows, carried bur- 
 dens, counterfeited dumbness and insanity. One man has 
 given an account of how, attempting to escape, he was 
 caught. He was put into prison, and while there five 
 other Huguenots, arrested in the like way, were put into 
 the room. Two of these turned out to be young ladies 
 disguised as boys, escaping from France on foot in mid- 
 winter. They were immured in a convent, where they 
 died. The narrator was loaded witli irons and sent to the 
 galleys, where he suffered twelve years. 
 
 Andrew Bosquet was sixteen years old when taken, and 
 remained in the galleys twenty- six years. Recently a 
 record was found of a child twelve years old who was 
 sent to the galleys " for having accompanied his father to 
 preaching." The Baron of Montljelon was sent to the 
 galleys at seventy years of age. One of the King's coun- 
 sellors was sent with the rest, and while chained there 
 composed " A Discourse in Defence of Divine Providence." 
 Another galley-slave was John Huber, father of the three 
 Hubers who have written respectively on the Ants, the 
 Bees, and the Birds. 
 
 Meantime, while many were cr(jssing the frontier, some 
 escaped in vessels, hidden under the cargo ; others in 
 open boats, half-frozen and half-starved. Two young 
 ladies named Raboteau were aided bv a kinsman, a wine- 
 mercliant, to escape, by being put into two casks and 
 
THE HUGUENOTS. 333 
 
 marked as French apples. Another lady on reaching 
 England tlirew herself down and [)assionately kissed the 
 ground, crying out : " I thank thee, O Lord, tliat I can rest 
 my head on this beloved soil ! " We have frequent occa- 
 sion to find fault with England and the Englisli ! Let us 
 remember to the credit of that land tliat it has been a 
 liaven of safety to the persecuted of all countries, where 
 they have been protected from the fury of the tyrant and 
 the rage of the priest. 
 
 This emigration put an end for a time to the best 
 industries of Emnce. The great cloth-manufacture at 
 Abbeville came entirely to an end. Instead of forty tliou- 
 sand silk-manufacturers at Tours, there remained only four 
 thousand ; instead of eight thousand looms, one hundred. 
 Lyons, Nantes, and other cities did not recover their pros- 
 perity until a century had passed by. 
 
 Large numbers of the fugitives went to Geneva, Berne, 
 and Zurich. As they were mostly destitute, the Protes- 
 tant cantons raised a fund to help them. The city of 
 Geneva was generous in the highest degree. In forty 
 years it gave to tliese refugees more than five millions of 
 florins. The King of France threatened Geneva with his 
 vengeance if it did not expel the fugitives. The magis- 
 trates pretended to comi)ly and ordered tliem to leave. 
 Tliey went out of one of the gates, toward France, in a 
 long and sad j)rocession ; but at midniglit the citizens went 
 alter tliem, led them round the city, and brought them in 
 by the opposite gate. 
 
 The Elector of Bmndenburg, father of Frederic the Great, 
 issued an edict offering protection and a home to all those 
 driven from France on account of their religion. He de- 
 clared that he would sell his plate rather than they should 
 be in want. 
 
 Great numbers, therefore, went to Berlin. Others went 
 
334 EVENTS AND EPOCHS IN RELIGIOUS HISTORY, 
 
 to Holland, which was named " the great Ark of the fugi- 
 tives." The sympathy of Protestant Europe was drawn 
 toward these martyrs sufiering for cOnscience-sake ; and 
 part of the retribution due to the persecutors came when 
 William of Orange took the throne of England, defeating 
 the troops of James II. by the help of an army the flower 
 of which consisted of French Huguenots, — veterans trained 
 in the wars of Turenne and Conde. 
 
 These measures seemed to have crushed Protestantism 
 in France. The pastors had been banished or put to death ; 
 the Protestant churches were destroyed ; the persecutions 
 and dragoonings had converted in appearance great num- 
 bers. The fascinatiniJ- Madame de Sevii^ne wrote : " These 
 
 o o 
 
 conversions, helped by the dragoons, are the grandest and 
 finest thinos ever imagined." Murillac brought over thou- 
 sands in a w^eek. De Noailles converted all Nismes in a 
 single day ; the next day he took his soldiery to Mont- 
 pellier and converted that place. Those who refused were 
 sent to prison and kept in loathsome dungeons. The 
 priests boasted that in three months they had made half 
 a million Catholics. These new converts were marched 
 to church by the soldiers. They had to answer to their 
 names read from a list at the door ; were compelled to 
 use the hoi}'' water, to carry the incense and partake of the 
 Host. All this seemed to most of them such intolerable 
 blasphemy that they seized the first opportunity of escap- 
 ing from the kingdom. As soon as they reached a foreign 
 land they sought for a Huguenot church and made public 
 confession of their sin in having hypocritically conformed 
 to Romanism. Two years after the Revocation there was 
 a meeting in a Huguenot society in London, at which 
 four hundred and ninety-seven members w^ere received 
 again into the Church they had thus been compelled to 
 abandon. 
 
THE HUGUENOTS. 335 
 
 § 3. Protestantism in the South of France. The Alhigcn- 
 ses in the Thirteenth Century. The War of the Camisards. 
 — liut there was one i)art of France where Protestantism 
 had a deeper root. This was Languedoc, wliere, in the 
 thirteentli century, Pope Innocent III. had ordered a cru- 
 sade against the Albigenses. Languedoc was tlien one of 
 the most civilized countries in Europe. It was filled with 
 a happy i)opulation. Large cities had arisen, full of wealth 
 and splendor. Their Counts had been chief among the 
 Crusaders, and brought from Palestine many oriental cus- 
 toms. Chivalry was the religion of the castles, while a 
 singular form of mystical heresy prevailed among the peo- 
 ple, — a kind of ]\Ianicheism which asserted two principles, 
 one good, tlie other evil. In no part of Europe had the 
 clergy, in tliat century, so entirely lost its influence. It 
 was degraded and despised. Tlie Trouljadours of Langue- 
 doc and Provence were the real priests, and the Courts 
 of Love had drawn away the interest of the people iVom 
 the churches. Songs and banquets, festivals and poetry, 
 beguiled the joyful hours. 
 
 The name, Languedoc, means the Language of Oc, and 
 refers to tlie pecrdiar form of the Romance Language there 
 spoken. For some reason tlie Latin language had no sin- 
 gle word meaning Yes, but the old Romans used a periph- 
 rasis, or circumlocution, of three kinds. When they wished 
 to express assent they either said Hoc est — " That 's it " ; 
 or Hoc est illud — " That 's the thing ; " or Sic est — " That 's 
 so." The people who spoke languages derived from the 
 Latin took, each of them, one of these three affirmative 
 forms, and made a single word of it. In Italy they took 
 Sic est — " That 's so," and abridged it into the Italian Si ; 
 the Italian was therefore named the language of Si. In 
 the North of France they took the phrase Hoc est illud 
 and contracted it into Ocil, — afterwards into Oni ; so that 
 
336 EVENTS AND EPOCHS IN EELIGIOUS HISTORY. 
 
 speech was called the language of Oeil. In the South of 
 France they took Hoc est and made of it Oc ; therefore 
 this was called the language of Oc. 
 
 This had been the home of a people living in luxury and 
 ease, basking in sunshine, over which Innocent III., the 
 Vicar of Christ, sent a desolation of fire and sword at the 
 beginning of the thirteenth century. The crusaders were 
 like vultures, attracted from all sides by hope of rich plun- 
 der. They were led by papal legates, and accompanied by 
 Dominic, the founder of the Dominicans. " Never," says 
 Milman, " in the history of man, were the eternal principles 
 of justice and humanity so trampled under foot as in this 
 war." '' Slay all in Beziers," said Arnold, abbot and papal 
 legate ; " God will know his own ! " All the great prelates 
 of France were there, — come to feast on the miseries of 
 their fellow-men. In the city of Beziers all were massa- 
 cred, seven thousand being killed in one church. Thus 
 liad this fair land been desolated by these cruel church- 
 men. 
 
 But always in this region of France there had remained 
 the element of Protest. Such awful cruelties, inflicted on 
 the people in the name of Eome, had not induced those 
 who survived to love her. They had transmitted to tlieir 
 children and children's children an imperishable longing 
 for a better way. Thus in Languedoc, when the Edict of 
 Nantes was revoked, there were said to be a quarter of a 
 million of Protestants. Many of them escaped into other 
 countries ; a large number were compelled by force to con- 
 form. Their pastors had been driven from the country ; 
 but among the mountain valleys of this district, especially 
 in what is called Cevennes, the spirit of liberty remained 
 alive and strong. There, from the centre of France, the 
 land rises till, in the Cevennes, mountains are found 
 five to six thousand feet high. In this country, though 
 
Tin: HUGUENOTS. 337 
 
 deprived of their churches and pastors, the people met in 
 the fields and forests for worsliip. Troops were then sent 
 to disperse them. The Huguenots were shot down in 
 the midst of their j)rayers, were taken and hung on tlie 
 nearest trees; but the meetings grew larger. The men 
 armed themselves ; they posted sentinels, and sometimes 
 beat back the King's troops. Then more troops were sent 
 into the district and greater severity was practised ; but 
 still the meetings went on. They came together at mid- 
 night, in darkness and mystery, chanting their hymns 
 under the echoing rocks, and fancied they heard angel- 
 voices responding in the air. By degrees they reached a 
 high state of religious excitement. They spoke as though 
 inspired ; they fell into trances ; they prophesied while in 
 an unconscious state. The enthusiasm of the Hui^uenots 
 increased, and force was of no avail against a people who 
 believed themselves under supernatural influences. At 
 last, excited to a pitch of fury by the tortures inflicted on 
 their friends by a priest named C hay la, the people rushed 
 to his house, delivered their friends from his dungeons, 
 and killed Chayla himself. This led to the insurrection 
 of tlie Cami.sards, a people wlio have been compared 
 to the Covenanters of Scotland in their union of fanatic 
 faith with desperate courage in fighting their persecutors. 
 
 Like other nicknames, the origin and meaning of Cami- 
 sards is uncertain. It probably means the " men in white 
 shirts," as they wore a sort of white blouse. This moun- 
 tain region is full of caves, and in these the Camisards 
 met to arrange their ])lans. Here they stored their pro- 
 visions and ammunition ; here they hid their women and 
 children when pursued. Lightly armed, and accustomed 
 to the mountains, tliey moved with much greater raj)idity 
 than the King's troops, and during some years defied the 
 whole power of tlie Great King. They were led by men 
 
 22 
 
338 EVENTS AND EPOCHS IN RELIGIOUS HISTORY. 
 
 daring but sagacious, who seemed to have gained by 
 instinct a knowledge of the methods of war. They were 
 inspired by that religious enthusiasm before which mere 
 military organization usually fails. They had with them 
 their prophets, of whose influence one of their own writers 
 thus speaks : — 
 
 " Their inspirations were our strength ; they chose our 
 leaders ; they were our discipline ; they banished sorrow from 
 our hearts even in our greatest dangers, — for God was always 
 with us to console us." 
 
 One of the most distincruished of the leaders was Cava- 
 lier, only a peasant boy, a baker's apprentice, — but one, 
 nevertheless, who frequently defeated tlie armies of Louis. 
 As he grew up and- saw the cruelty practised on the 
 people, he joined the insurgents. Their leader, Eoland, 
 had then about a thousand men under him, for when the 
 soldiers burned the villages the peasants had no resource 
 but to become Camisards. Cavalier could preach as well 
 as light. He was a handsome youth, and was compared 
 by his associates to David. 
 
 During the winter of 1702 the Camisards were orc^aniz- 
 ing their troops, collecting ammunition and provisions, and 
 by the spring they had three thousand men, badl}^ armed 
 and short of powder ; but they learned how to manufacture 
 their own powder, and they also often suddenly fell upon 
 any place where arms and ammunition were stored, and car- 
 ried them to their retreats by mountain-paths, every foot 
 of which they knew. 
 
 Cavalier descended from his mountains to the neigh- 
 borhood of Nismes, fighting, preaching, and sacking the 
 Catholic churches. Count Broglie, the Eoyal commander, 
 went out to meet him, but he had disappeared. 
 
 Hearing of Cavalier in another quarter, a large force of 
 
THE HUGUENOTS. 339 
 
 troops were sent to seize liini. They liad a guide who was 
 secretly one of Cavalier's followers. He led them into a 
 narrow ravine, where they were furiously charged by the 
 Caniisards and utterly defeated. The Caraisards took the 
 arms, clothes, and money of the dead soldiers, all of which 
 they much needed, and then proceeded to hold public 
 woi-sliip near by. Tlie governor of Alais heard of it, and 
 sent six hundred men, and a mule loaded with ropes 
 with which to bind or liang the Caniisards ; but Cavalier 
 heard of their approach and waylaid them, and rising sud- 
 denly from behind the rocks fired a full volley at the 
 cavaliy in front. Terrified, they turned and rode back, 
 dispersing and trampling down their own foot-soldiers, and 
 all fled together, pursued by the Caniisards, who slew a 
 srreat number and took two loads of ammunition and 
 arms together with the ropes, which the patient mule, 
 indifferent what party he served, carried for them to their 
 retreat. 
 
 Soon after, Cavalier determined to assail the strong cas- 
 tle of Servas, the governor of which had been veiy savage 
 in his attacks on assemblies of the Caniisards. Cavalier 
 happened to find in the pocket of an officer whom he had 
 seized an order from Count Broglie directing all officials 
 to lodfje him and liis men. He dressed in the clothes of 
 the soldiers they had killed, twelve of his own followers, 
 who led six others in their Camisard dress, bound with 
 ropes. Cavalier put on the officer's uniform, and demanded 
 admission to the castle for himself and prisoners. The 
 order of Count Broglie caused him to be at once received. 
 In the evening, at a signal given, some of his soldiers seized 
 the governor and his attendants, others opened the gates ; 
 the Caniisards outside rushed in, the castle was taken, all 
 the arms and ammunition taken out, and the building 
 burned. The same trick was successful in auntlicr i>];u«% 
 
340 EVENTS AND EPOCHS IN RELIGIOUS HISTORY. 
 
 where he found and shot two priests who had been per- 
 secutors of his people. Fear spread through the country 
 among the Catholics ; the bishops and gentry fled from 
 their castles ; the insurrection spread. The Camisards 
 levied taxes on these regions, and compelled the Catholic 
 farmers to bring food to their camp. 
 
 The governor of the province, Baville, was highly mor- 
 tified at these repeated defeats of his veteran troops by 
 half-armed peasants. He sent more soldiers against them, 
 but the rapid movements of the rebels confused their 
 opj)onents. Cavalier would suddenly appear in some 
 region, and by the time the troops reached the place he 
 would be committing devastations far away. If, to prevent 
 this, they divided themselves into small bodies, he would 
 overpower them in detail. The governor was at last ob- 
 liged to confess his inability to put down the insurrection, 
 and to ask for more troops. Large numbers were sent, too 
 numerous to be resisted ; but by their rapid movements, 
 and their power of concealing themselves in the mountains, 
 the Camisards continued to escape their enemies and inflict 
 on them frequent defeats. 
 
 The next year, the third of the war, the army of Lan- 
 guedoc was increased to sixty thousand men, and put 
 under the command of one of the Kino's ablest generals, 
 Marshal Montrevel. He succeeded in defeating the peas- 
 ants once or twice by superior numbers, and thought he 
 had destroyed them. But they divided into small par- 
 ties, and then scattered themselves all over the coun- 
 try, and were heard of at once in many places, burning 
 the houses of the Catholic gentry, capturing provisions 
 and ammunition, and cutting off small parties of soldiers. 
 Thus the war went on, each party destroying the towns 
 inhabited by the friends of the other, till the whole coun- 
 try was desolate. The Camisards destroyed twenty thou- 
 
THE HUGUENOTS. 341 
 
 sand of tlip sixty thousand troops under Montrevel. Queen 
 Anne sent a tieet to the (lulC of Lyons with a regiment 
 of Huguenot eniigianls on board to help the insurgents. 
 The gove'*nnient of Louis XIV. was alarmed. Montrevel 
 was recalled, and j\Iarshal Vi liars sent in his place with 
 full powers ; but before he left, Montrevel collected all 
 his troops and succeeded in entrapjiing Cavalier, whom 
 success had made careless, into an ambuscade where he 
 was surrouniied on all sides by superior troops. Cav- 
 alier by great energy cut his way through, but witli a 
 large loss ol" men. When Marshal Villars arrived and 
 heard t)f it lie went out to see the field, and expressed his 
 admiration at the genius of Cavalier. "Here," said he, 
 " is a man cl no military education who, in one of the 
 most diilicult positions, has shown a skill worthy of Julius 
 Caesar." 
 
 Villars was neither cruel nor bigoted, but an honorable 
 and humane soldier, who deplored the continuance of the 
 conllict, and sought to bring it to an end. Meantime the 
 fortune of war had changed ; the Cami.sards had been fre- 
 quently defeated, and their secret stores of ammunition 
 discovered and destroyed. 
 
 Villars announced that he was ready to pardon all who 
 would lay down their arms. He sought an interview with 
 Cavalit^r, and offered very generous terms which Cavalier 
 accepted, but which the other leaders refused. The Prot- 
 estants were to be no longer persecuted, and were allowed 
 to hold meetings in the country ; those in prison were to 
 be released, and exiles allowed to return. The other chiefs 
 Avho refused to submit were shortly after defeated and 
 slain. Cavalier with his companions held public religious 
 services daily in the neighborhood of Nismes. He vis- 
 ited Paris, had an interview with Louis XIV., went to 
 England, entered the English army, rose to the rank of 
 
342 EVENTS AND EPOCHS IN KELIGIOUS HISTORY. 
 
 a major-general, was made governor of Jersey, and died in 
 Ills bed in 1740. 
 
 Protestantism in France gradually disappeared. For a 
 time it remained hidden and silent. There was no preach- 
 ing, no worship. At last it revived, — chiefly from the ef- 
 forts of one young man, Antoine Court, of Nismes. When 
 only seventeen he assembled the concealed Huguenots 
 together in secret meetings and began to read tlie Bible 
 to tliem. Then he began to preach, going secretly through 
 the South of France. The people met in abandoned stone- 
 quarries or in the forests, and were known as the Church in 
 the Desert. Finally Court called a synod, in the year 1715, 
 to re-establish the proscribed religion. Preachers were set 
 apart, churches formed, circuits established. He found it 
 necessary to teach his preachers, for they were very 
 ignorant. So he established a Divinity School in a ravine, 
 near a torrent which would cover the sound of their voices. 
 " There," says Court, " we studied eight hours at a time. 
 This rocky cleft was our hall, lecture-room, and library. 
 I made them discuss passages of Scripture and explain 
 them. Sometimes I made one preach to the rest." These 
 preachers took their lives in their hands, for if taken they 
 would have been sent to the galleys, or perhaps broken 
 on the wheel, or hung, — for the persecutions had recom- 
 menced. 
 
 Nevertheless, the numbers of the Protestants increased. 
 The preachers travelled mostly by night, in disguise. Court 
 journeyed through Europe, raising money with which to 
 buy Bibles and support a school for his preachers which he 
 had founded in Switzerland. He began his work in 1715, 
 and in 1729 there were in Languedoc forty-two churches 
 and about two hundred thousand Protestants. The per- 
 secutions went on as before, but the body of the Huguenots 
 grew larger. In 1756 there were forty-eight pastors and 
 
THE HUGUENOTS. 343 
 
 twenty-two travelling preachers. In 1763 there were one 
 liundred pastoi-s and preachers. 
 
 §4 The Case of Colas in 1762. — Down to the year 
 1762 it was such a common thing in France to tor- 
 ture, hang, and rack Protestants that little was thouglit 
 of it. In that year tlie cruel punislunent of one Protes- 
 tant put an end to such atrocities forever ; and this was 
 Imnight about not by the influence of Poman Catholic 
 bishops, or even by the remonstrances of Protestant 
 cluirclies and governments, but by the admirable efforts of 
 a man who stands before the world as the arch-infidel of 
 his time, — Voltaire. 
 
 Jean Galas resided at Toulouse, a city full of bigoted 
 monks and priests. He was a paralytic sixty-four years 
 of age. He and liis family were all Protestants except 
 one son, wlio was a Catholic. Another, a dissipated man, 
 fell into trouble and hung himself. Thereupon some monks 
 got up a story that Calas had killed his son to keep him 
 from turning Catholic. Tlie public mind was inflamed ; 
 Calas and liis family were seized and sent to prison ; and 
 the 2)Oor paralytic father was sentenced to be broken alive 
 on the wheel. This was done, and the rest of tlie family 
 were released and went to Geneva where Voltaire saw them. 
 He was no friend to the Huguenots, nor to any other form 
 of religion ; but he liated injustice and oppression. He 
 devoted himself to this case, and wrote letters about it to 
 the leading men of France and to all the kings of Europe. 
 He also published pamphlets written with his inimitable 
 power of wit and argument. Whoever came to see him, 
 from all parts of the world, heard this story. All France, all 
 Europe, at last rang with the tale of horror. The dead man 
 liad l)ecome a martyr. Finally tlie government was forced 
 by public opinion to have a court appointed to re-examine 
 the case. Voltaire prepared the arguments, consulted 
 
344 EVENTS AND EPOCHS IN RELIGIOUS HISTORY. 
 
 with the lawyers, inspired their pleadings with his own 
 brilliant wit, sarcasm, eloquence. At length the decree 
 was reversed. Galas was declared innocent four years 
 after his death, and thirty-six thousand francs given to 
 his widow. 
 
 The effect of all this was to make similar persecution 
 impossible ever after. It also called attention to the 
 cruelties still practised, to the stealing of Protestant chil- 
 dren in order to make them Catholics, — and by degrees 
 these things ceased. The sending of Protestants to the 
 galleys was brought to an end by means of the Drama, as 
 putting them to death ceased througli the influence of the 
 Deist Voltaire. The case of Pabre, — a young man who 
 went to the galleys to save his father from that fate, both 
 having been at a religious meeting, and the father taken 
 prisoner, — was dramatized and acted at court. It was 
 called " The Honest Criminal." The great lords and ladies 
 shed tears over tlie play, and there were no more Prot- 
 estants sent to those places of torture. Soon came the 
 French Eevolution and ended the reign of persecution in 
 France forever. 
 
 In regard to the later history of the Vaudois, with their 
 martyrdoms and patient faitli, I can merely refer to the fa- 
 mous Easter massacre, when the Duke of Savoy attempted 
 to kill all his Protestant subjects. These murders continued 
 a week, accompanied with horrible brutalities. A cry of 
 horror rang through Europe. Cromwell, then at the height 
 of his power, did what no king of England, not even 
 William III., had before' attempted. He sent a special 
 ambassador to the Duke of Savoy, demanding that these 
 people should be protected from further injury, and threat- 
 ening him with the power of England if he refused. He 
 did not refuse, — especially as Cromwell ordered his am- 
 bassador at Paris not to sign a treaty just made with 
 
THE HUGUENOTS. 345 
 
 France, until Cardinal Mazarin liad agreed to assist in 
 getting justice done to the people of those valleys. Milton, 
 then Latin secretary to Cromwell, had the satisfaction of 
 (hawing up these papers, and wlien it was done refreshed 
 liiniself by writing his well known sonnet: — 
 
 " Avenf,'e, O Lord ! tliy slaughtered saints, whose bones 
 Lie scattered on the Ali)ine mountains cold ; 
 Even them who kept thy truth so pure of old, 
 
 When all our fathers worshipped stocks and stones, 
 
 Forget. not: in thy book record their groans 
 Who were thy sheep, and in their ancient fold 
 Slain by the bloody Piedmontese, that rolled 
 
 Mother with infant down the rocks. The moans 
 
 The vales redoubled to the hills, and they 
 To Heaven " 
 
 This act of Cromwell was one of which England may 
 well be proud. It is considerably more to her credit than 
 sending troops to destroy villages in Abyssinia, Afghanistan, 
 or South Africa. 
 
 § 5. DcsccndanU of the Huguenots in England and 
 America. — Among the distinguished descendants of the 
 Huguenots in England have been such men as Major 
 Andre ; Sir Samuel lioniilly ; James and Harriet Mar- 
 tineau ; Dollond the optician, inventor of the achromatic 
 telescope ; Mrs. Barbauld ; Archbishop Trench ; Garrick, 
 whose French name was Garrique ; Captain Marryat, the 
 naval novelist ; Captain Chamier ; Miss Burney and Mrs. 
 liadclilfe ; De Foe, descended from De Vaux ; Maturin, 
 the novelist; Jortin, author of the "Life of Erasmus;" 
 Colonel Barre, who in Parliament opposed the Stamp Act, 
 and for whom the town of Barre in Massachusetts is 
 named ; Sir George Cornewall Lewis ; and Labouchere 
 (Baron Taunton). 
 
 Many peers of England are descended from Huguenots 
 on the male or female side, — as Djrd Clancary ; Bussell, 
 
OttG EVENTS AND EPOCHS IN RELIGIOUS HISTORY. 
 
 Duke of Bedford ; Cavendish, Duke of Devonshire ; the 
 Duke of Leeds ; and others. 
 
 Fonblanque, of the London Press ; Gillott, the maker of 
 steel pens ; Grote the historian, of the same family as 
 Hugo Grotius, both descended from refugees named De 
 Grote ; the two brothers Newman ; Father Faber the poet ; 
 and Dr. Pusey, — are also of Huguenot origin. 
 
 Even the Queen of England has Huguenot blood in her 
 veins. The Marquis d'Olbreuse escaped from Poitou into 
 Brandenburg. The Duke of Zell married his only daughter. 
 Her daughter was Sophia Dorotliea, wife of George I. 
 Thus the Queen of England is descended from a Huguenot 
 exile. So also is the Emperor of Prussia, since a daughter 
 of Sophia Dorothea married Frederic William, ancestor of 
 the present Emperor. These exiles were like Joseph, wdio 
 was sold by his brothers and who afterward became Viceroy 
 of Egypt. 
 
 The first settlement in this country by the Huguenots 
 was in Florida. It was besrun, loncj before the Eevocation 
 of the Edict of Nantes, by Admiral Coligny, afterwards 
 murdered in the Bartholomew massacre. He wished to 
 found a refuge for the Huguenots in America; and sent 
 out an expedition which made a settlement near the St. 
 John's Eiver, which was called the Eiver of May; and 
 afterwards established a colony on one of the Port Royal 
 islands. This was in 1562, more than fifty years before 
 the English landed at Plymouth. They gave tlie name 
 Carolina to the country in honor of Charles IX., by whose 
 wicked orders Coligny himself was massacred, Aug. 24, 
 1572, ten years after. This colony perished, and another 
 was sent to Florida. It seemed about to thrive, when it 
 was attacked by the ruthless bigotry of the Spaniards, who 
 in the name of the Catholic relis^ion murdered all the in- 
 habitants of the inoffensive settlement, — men, women and 
 
THE IIUCUENOTS. 347 
 
 children, and on tlie ground still smoking with the blood 
 of these heretics, founded a Iionian Catholic church. 
 
 Many Huguenots came to New York, among whom 
 were the De Lancys and Jays. Some settled in Virginia, 
 but the largest numl)cr went to South Carolina. There 
 were, at one time, in Charleston, at least sixteen thousand 
 Huguenots. Many of their descendants have risen to emi- 
 nence in that State, — as the Laurenses, the Hiigers, and 
 Marion, the famous leader in the American Kevolution. 
 
 Wherever the Huguenots settled they were distinguished 
 by industry, severe morahty, great cliarity, and a politeness 
 and courtesy of manners not usual among the descendants 
 of tlie English. Three of the presidents of Congress dur- 
 ing the devolution were of this race, Henry Laurens, John 
 Jay and Elias Boudinot. 
 
 In 1686 and 1687 many of the French Huguenots 
 reached Boston. They formed a church which first wor- 
 shipped in the school-house in School Street. Afterward, 
 about the year 1716, tliey built a small church ou the 
 same street. M. Daille was the first pastor. In his will 
 he prohibited the use of wine at his funeral, and gave his 
 books to form a library for the church. He lies buried in 
 the middle of the Granary burying-ground. 
 
 Mr. Robert C. Winthrop, in his memoir on the " Life 
 and Services of Governor James Bowdoin," gives tlie pe- 
 tition of Pierre Baudouin, taken from the original French 
 manuscript, asking Governor Andros to give him one hun- 
 dred acres of land near Casco in Elaine. From him des- 
 cended Governor Bowdoin and many Boston families. 
 Pierre remained in Casco over two years and then re- 
 moved to Boston, perhaps attracted by the Huguenot 
 church here. Other Boston families, — as the Brimmers, 
 Dexters, Dehons, Debloises, Cazneaus, Johonnots, Mouli- 
 neaux, — are of Huguenot origin. Peter Faneuil, who 
 
348 EVENTS AND EPOCHS IN RELIGIOUS HISTOKY. 
 
 gave us our Faneuil Hall, was the son of a Huguenot. 
 Andrew Sigourney, ancestor of many New England fami- 
 lies, left Eochelle as soon as the Edict of Nantes was 
 repealed, and came at once to Massachusetts. 
 
 In this country and England the French names have 
 often been anglicized, and not always improved. Goupe, 
 has become Guppy. Taillebois was chr>'iged to Talboys; 
 Bouchier, to Botcher or Boxer; D'Orlcns, to Dorliug; 
 Condo, to Condy ; De Preux, to Diprose ; De Moulins, to 
 Mullins ; Huighens, to Higgins ; Beaufois, to Beeffy ; Le- 
 tellier, to Taylor ; Brasseur, to Brassy ; Le Noir, to Leonard ; 
 Gebon, to Gibbon. 
 
 In Boston there was a family named De la Noye. Some 
 of them emigrated to the Cape, dropped the article, and 
 their name was changed to Nye. Others dropped the 
 article and became Noyes. Others retained the article 
 and, dropping the two last vowels, became Delano, — a 
 well known Boston name. 
 
 Some of these exiles in England and America, whose 
 names had a meaning, translated them, and went by the 
 English synonym. Thus L'Oiseau turned into Bird ; M. 
 Le Jeune, into Mr. Young ; M. Le Blanc, into Mr. White. 
 M. Le Noir became Mr. Black ; M. Le Roy, Mr. King ; M. 
 La Croix, Mr. Cross ; M. De L'Eau, Mr. Waters. 
 
 It is said that an American once had his name trans- 
 lated twice, and wholly changed. His real name was 
 Flint. He went to France to live, and there it was trans- 
 lated into the French equivalent for gun-flint, namely, 
 Pierre de Fusil. Returning to this country it was retrans- 
 lated into Peter Gun, with which name he ended his 
 career. 
 
 Every great crime, no matter how successful it may 
 seem at first, turns out at last a great blunder. The loss 
 of the Huoiienots took out of France one of its most vital 
 
 O 
 
THE HUGUENOTS. 349 
 
 organs. It not merely paralyzed the industries of the 
 country, it not only gave to Holland iiud Juigland the 
 manufactures wliich France liad before monopolized, but it 
 took away an essential element of French national cliarac- 
 ter and national life. The intellect of France seemed 
 struck with })aralysi8 ; during half a century no great 
 thinkers or writers appeared. Louis trampled out indi- 
 viduality and genius when he set his foot on Protes- 
 tantism. Merivale, Michelet, Smiles, Huckle, have all 
 noticed this fact. Protestant universities were suppressed, 
 Protestant scliools closed, Protestant books burned. Since 
 then, that spirit of submission to authority came which 
 Paul Louis Courier characterized when he said : " French- 
 men, you are the most llunkeyish of all nations!" With 
 Ilacine, Corneille, Pascal, La Fontaine, Bossuet, Fenelon, 
 disappeared the great men of France. 
 
 The Jesuits had triumphed. France was converted. 
 Protestant property had been given to the Church, and it 
 became very ricli. The clergy held in their hands one Hftli 
 of the land of France, estimated at eight hundred million 
 dollars in value. 
 
 What was the result ? The Deists, the Atheists, tlie 
 French Revolution ! The nation which cast out tlie noble 
 Protestants idolized Voltaire, Diderot, and Rousseau. The 
 Catholic clergy themselves became demomlized by wealth 
 and power. Then were seen prelates of tlie Church like 
 Cardinal Dubois and Talleyrand. Instead of tlie obedient 
 and loyal Huguenots, arrived Robespierre, Marat, and 
 Danton. After persecuting the Protestants, the lesson 
 taught to the people by the Roman clergy was repaid to 
 tliemselves. They, in turn, were persecuted, exiled, and 
 guillotined. 
 
 These were the results of the Revocation of the Edict 
 of Nantes, — Atheism and the Reign of Terror. As 
 
350 EVENTS AND EPOCHS IN RELIGIOUS HISTORY. 
 
 the Protestants had fled to Holland and England, so 
 now the Catholic priests and noblemen fled from the 
 rage of the people they had oppressed, to the same coun- 
 tries. These proud and luxurious nobles had laughed 
 at the misery of the nation. They ground the peo- 
 ple to the earth with taxes, and made them eat grass 
 like cattle. They in turn had to fly ; but while the Hu- 
 guenots carried witli them habits of industry, these later 
 fugitives took only habits of idleness. There were, no 
 doubt, fine exceptions ; but the majority of the exiles 
 of the French Ee volution knew nothing more useful than 
 how to teach fencing, dancing, and hair-dressing. 
 
 The crime of France had been great ; its retribution was 
 fearful. All the defeats sustained by France in the field, 
 from Blenheim and Oudenarde to Waterloo and Sedan, 
 did not do it the harm that it suffered from the persecu- 
 tion of the Hufjuenots. Half of the best blood and life of 
 the people was gone ; and, instead of being the first nation 
 of Europe, France has been obliged to give way before the 
 descendant of the Elector of the little State of Branden- 
 burg, which received her exiles. 
 
JOUN WEtSLEY Ai^'D iiltS TIMES. 351 
 
 xir. 
 
 JOHN WESLEY AND HIS TBIES. 
 
 §1. Early Life of ]Vcslcy. Ills Parents. Oxford. — The 
 name given to a denoniiuation or party is very often a 
 nickname or word of reproach. It seklom expresses the 
 true character of the body. The Society of Friends were 
 called Quakers, not because they themselves trembled but 
 because they made others tremble. So the followers of 
 Wesley were called Methodists, from the methodical ways 
 which he and his companions practised before he became a 
 Methodist. No name could be less appropriate to a peo- 
 ple who from the first were spontaneous, free, unfettered 
 by rules, living apart from old methods in religion. Wes- 
 ley and his companions founded a body who were Meth- 
 odists only in the sense, that in order to save souls they 
 were willing to adopt any methods, however unusual, — 
 such as lay-preaching, out-of-door preaching, camp-meet- 
 ings, and otlier ways in religion considered to be most 
 irregular, and often thought improper. 
 
 John Wesley came of a strong stock. His father, grand- 
 father, great-grandfather, and his mother's father were min- 
 isters who had been ejected, imprisoned, and persecuted for 
 their dissent. Non-conformity and independence of mind 
 ran in the blood. His f\\ther and mother were dissenters 
 from the dissenters, having each gone back into the Estab- 
 lished Church from conviction and principle. Both had 
 
352 EVENTS AND EPOCHS IN RELIGIOUS HISTORY. 
 
 taken this step when children. His father was in conse- 
 quence deprived of support from his friends and went to 
 Oxford with two pounds and sixteen shillings, but there 
 contrived to maintain himself till he graduated. 
 
 John Wesley was born June 17, 1703, at Epworth, in 
 Leicestershire. When he was six years old the house was 
 set on fire by some persons who were offended with his 
 father, who was the rector of the place, for rebuking their 
 profligate habits. After the children had been brought 
 out, it was discovered that little John was left behind in 
 the burning: buildincr. He could not be reached throuo'h 
 the door on account of the flames, but he contrived to 
 climb up to a window and was lifted out. The memory of 
 this event remained deeply fixed in the minds of both 
 mother and son. They pondered it in their hearts, and 
 the boy seemed as a brand plucked from the burning and 
 reserved for great things. 
 
 At the age of seventeen John Wesley went to Oxford 
 University, where he was especially distinguished for his 
 looical attainments and skill. At this time he deter- 
 mined to enter the ministry. Ilis mother wrote to him in 
 reference to his pleasures : — 
 
 " Would you judge of the lawfulness or unlawfulness of 
 pleasure, take this rule : Whatever weakens your reason, im- 
 pairs the tenderness of your conscience, obscures your sense 
 of God, or takes off your relish for spiritual things, — in short, 
 which increases the strength and authority of your body over 
 your mind, — that thing is sin to you, however innocent in 
 itself" 
 
 The books which most interested and influenced Wesley 
 at this time were Thomas a Kempis on " The Imitation 
 of Christ," and Jeremy Taylor on " Holy Living and 
 Dying," — two marvellous volumes^ if we consider how 
 
JOHN WESLEY AND HIS TIMES. 353 
 
 much good they have douc and are still doing in tlie 
 world. 
 
 Most persons, moved hy a deep religious spirit, who 
 effect great revolutions and religious movements have 
 come from humljle life. Luther's fatlier was a miner, 
 Jeanne d' Arc was a ])easant girl, George Fox's father was 
 a weaver ; but Wesley descended from ancestors educated 
 if not ricli. They were a race of martyrs. Tliey were 
 imprisoned, ejected, and persecuted for their opinions. 
 Both his grandfathers had dissented from the Estab- 
 lished Church ; both his parents dissented back again 
 into it, from conviction. It was his own fate to leave 
 it again, though unwillingly. 
 
 His mother, Susannah Annesley, was a remarkable wo- 
 man. Many traits of independence are recorded concern- 
 ing her. Her father was a distinguished dissenter. When 
 a child she was a sceptic. Then she was converted and 
 joined the Englisli Church ; but she \vas no formalist. 
 During her husband s absences she read prayers and ser- 
 mons to her family. The neighbors came in to hear her, 
 and some persons complained to her husband. He wrote 
 to her and told her that wliat she was doing " looked par- 
 ticular." She replied : " All earnest religion looks particu- 
 lar." The curate was jealous of her influence, and wrote 
 to her husband that his wife had " a conventicle " in his 
 house. This word had its effect, and the rector wrote 
 again to his wife more earnestly desiring her to cease her 
 meetings. She answered that she would do so if he would 
 so conmiand. She then showed him the good her meetings 
 were doing, and the harm which would come from discon- 
 tinuing them. " If you see fit, after all," said she, " to dis- 
 solve these assemblies, send your positive commands. Your 
 desire will not satisfy my conscience. Command me in 
 such full and explicit terms as may absolve me from guilt 
 
 23 
 
354 EVENTS AND EPOCHS IN KELIGIOUS HISTORY. 
 
 when you and I appear before the great and awful tribunal 
 of Christ." This was the end of it ; he did not again ask 
 her to stop. In this little incident we have the history of 
 her son John anticipated. 
 
 When twenty-three John Wesley was ordained a priest 
 of the English Church, and elected a Fellow of Lincoln 
 College. His fellowship gave him a small salary, and this 
 was his support during a great part of his life. He passed 
 mucii of his time in study and prayer. He had few com- 
 panions ; but a serious man one day said to him : " Sir ! 
 you wish to serve God. Eemember, you cannot serve him 
 by yourself. You must find companions or make them. 
 The Bible knows nothing of solitary religion." The re- 
 ligious society which he needed was prepared for him at 
 Oxford during his absence at Epworth, where he acted for 
 a while as his father's curate. His brother Charles whom 
 he left at Oxford, and who, when John came away, was 
 not very devout, saying he did " not wish to be a saint 
 all at once," had suddenly been awakened, and with one or 
 two other religious young men had formed a society to 
 meet together in order to pray and improve the members. 
 This excited the ridicule of their fellow-collegians, and 
 they were called Bible Bigots, Bible Moths, the Holy Club, 
 and at last Methodists. This name adhered to the Wesleys 
 and their Society long after Methodism had become a very 
 different affair from what it was at Oxford. When John 
 Wesley returned to Oxford he joined this club. White- 
 field also became a member; and Hervey, author of "Med- 
 itations among the Tombs," was another. 
 
 At this time Wesley was very serious, and very punctual 
 in all the duties of religion according to his Church obli- 
 gations. He was a zealous churchman. This Oxford 
 Methodism was not really Methodism, but resembled much 
 more the Ptitualism which sprang up in the same place a 
 
JOHN WESLEY AND HIS TIMES. 355 
 
 hundred years later. It laid great stress on fastin«,'s, 
 regular prayers, and weekly sacraments ; and Wesley 
 allerwards thought that lie was no Christian at that time, 
 but seeking justification by the law, und in a state of 
 great spiritual ignijrance. Yet who can doubt that " the 
 Law is the School-master to bring us to Christ." Perhaps 
 Paul was prepared to receive the gospel with so intense a 
 faith because he had been previously seeking justification 
 faithfully by Jewish methods ; perhaps Luther was pre- 
 pared by his monkish austerities for a deeper religious life, 
 which he afterwards found in Christ and the gospel ; and 
 perhaps Wesley was prepareil, by pmctising all the rules of 
 piety and morality which his Church enjoined, for that 
 higher dispensation of truth which he afterwards received. 
 All honest and conscientious efforts to do right open the 
 way for a deeper and fuller religious experience in the end. 
 But the heads of the college did not interest themselves 
 in such speculations. They did not object to the Godly 
 Club as beint; too lecjal, but as bein^r too relit^jious for a 
 literary institution. They held a meeting to consider in 
 what manner the evil might be checked. College pro- 
 fessors and tutors in those days were apt to consider the 
 chief danger in religion to lie in the direction of enthu- 
 siasm, of being righteous overmuch, of being singular, 
 of going too fast and too far, of laying upon one's self 
 unnecessary burdens, of being too precise. Such charges 
 were brought against the Club. Wesley admitted that he 
 was singular, but absolutely denied that he was singular 
 without a reason. He said : — 
 
 " 1 am ready to give a reason for evt-iv custom wherein I 
 differ from otiicrs. As to my being formal, if that meana 
 that I am not easy and unaffected in my manners, it is true ; 
 but how can I help it 1 If it means that I am serious, this 
 too is true ; but why should I help it ? " 
 
356 EVENTS AND EPOCHS IN RELIGIOUS HISTORY. 
 
 People said that his singularity would cost him fortune, 
 friends, and reputation. He rejoined : — 
 
 " As to my fortune, I well know, though perhaps others do 
 not, that I could not have borne a larger one. For friends, 
 they are either trifling or serious ; if trifling, Fare thee well ! a 
 noble escape ; if serious, those who are more serious are left. 
 As for reputation, it is a glorious instrument for advancing 
 God's service ; bat there is a better than that, — a clean heart, 
 a single eye, and a soul full of God." 
 
 The reasons which led Wesley at this time to refuse to 
 go to Epworth to become the successor of his father in the 
 rectorate, and to prefer to remain at Oxford, mark the 
 difference between his state of mind then and his subse- 
 quent feelings. He was afraid of taking care of two thou- 
 sand souls at Epworth. He said : " I see not how any 
 man living can take care of a hundred." Afterward, con- 
 vinced that he had nothing to do with saving his own 
 soul, that it was to be saved by Christ, he was able to cast 
 himself freely into the work of his Master ; but at this 
 time he was afraid of the world and its temptations ; he 
 was afraid of lukewarm Christians, of the good sort of 
 men who stole away his fervor. " I never come from 
 among these saints of the w^orld," said he, " but I say, ' God 
 deliver me from a half Christian ! ' " 
 
 § 2. Goes to America. The Moravians. His New View 
 of Faith. — In 1735, when Wesley was thirty-two, his father 
 died. Going to London to publish a posthumous work of 
 his father, application was made to him by Oglethorpe 
 and others to go out as a preacher to their new colony in 
 Georgia, to preach to the settlers and Indians. He refused 
 to go, on the ground that his mother was dependent on 
 him, and that he ought not to leave her. " If your mother 
 will consent," asked they, "will you go ?" He answered, 
 "Yes," not expecting that she would do so; but the noble 
 
JOHN WESLEY AND HIS TIMES. 357 
 
 woman said, " Had I twenty sons, I should rejoice though all 
 were so employed, and though I never saw them more." He 
 thought it might take him iarther from tlie temptations of 
 the world, antl so be a good thing. A worldly man called 
 him Quixotic. " Sir," said he, " if the Bible is not true, I 
 am iis very a fool and madman as you think ; but if it be of 
 God, 1 am sober-minded. For it says: ' Tliere is no one 
 who has left father and mother, wife and kindred, for my 
 sake and the gospel's, but shall receive more in lliis life, 
 and life everlasting hereafter.' " Charles Wesley went 
 with him. " Our end in leaving our native land," said 
 they, " was not to avoid want nor to gain the dross of 
 worldly honor, but simply this, — to save our souls." 
 
 He embarked Oct. 14, 1735. There was a party of Mo- 
 ravians on board. From them he learned that there was a 
 religious experience which he had not yet reached, but 
 which they all enjoyed and regarded as essential. He 
 asked the advice of their pastor about his own preaching. 
 " My brother," said the Moravian, " I must first ask you 
 one or two questions : Have you the witness within your- 
 self? Does the Spirit of God bear witness with your 
 spirit that you are a child of God ? " "I was surprised," 
 said Wesley, " and knew not what to answer. He saw it 
 and asked, * Do you know Jesus Christ ? ' I said that I 
 knew he was the Savior of the world. ' True ; but do you 
 know that he has saved you ? ' I answered, * I hope he 
 has died to save me.' " But Wesley felt and saw that 
 these Moravians had an inward assurance of pardon and 
 peace with God to which he was a stranger, and he was 
 humble and sincere enough to be willing to sit at the feet 
 of these poor Germans, and be taught l)y them the first 
 principles of the gospel. After reaching Georgia he lodged 
 with the Moravians and had an opportunity of watching 
 their whole beliavior. They were always employed, always 
 
358 EVENTS AND EPOCHS IN RELIGIOUS HISTORY. 
 
 cheerful and good-humored. The simplicity and solemnity 
 of their meetings made him fancy himself in one of the 
 assemblies of the primitive Christians, when form and 
 state were not. The Moravians became very dear to him. 
 There was something wonderful to him in their faith. 
 When they were on shipboard there was a violent storm. 
 While the passengers were singing a hymn a sea broke 
 over the vessel, covered the ship, and poured down upon 
 those in the cabin. The English shrieked, but the Mora- 
 vians sang calmly on. Wesley asked one afterward : 
 " Were you not afraid ? " He replied : " I thank God 
 no!" "But," added Wesley, " were not your women and 
 children afraid ? " He answered mildly : " Our w^omen 
 and children are not afraid to die." 
 
 Wesley stayed in Georgia one year and nine months. 
 He was unwearied in his duties as a preacher, but his suc- 
 cess was not great. With the Indians he could do very 
 little. One Indian said : " Christians much drunk ! Chris- 
 tians beat men ! Christians tell lies ! Devil Christian J 
 Me no Christian ! " Wesley also taught school in Georgia, 
 and an anecdote is told of his tact. The boys in the 
 school who wore shoes and stockin^^s thouoht themselves 
 better than those who went barefoot. So Wesley himself 
 went to school, one day, barefoot. The boys stared. He 
 took no notice of their astonishment ; but the unshod party 
 were much consoled, and the others humbled. 
 
 In December, 1737, he left Georgia to return to Eng- 
 land, and arrived just as Whitefield was sailing for Amer- 
 ica. Wesley says : " I w^ent to America to convert others, 
 but who shall convert mc t " Three advantages, however, 
 he reckoned to have gained by this voyage. He had 
 been humbled and proved ; he had learned his own want 
 of faith ; and he had become acquainted with the Mora- 
 vians. 
 
JOHN WESLEY AND HIS TIMES. 359 
 
 On reaching London, satisfied in his own mind tliat he 
 was not a believer in Christ in the best sense, Wesley 
 sought out the Moravians ; and from one, Peter P>oehler, 
 he gained new light. Wesley when at Oxford had delined 
 Faith to be " an assent to any truth upon reasonal)le 
 grounds;" but now he agreed fully with Boehler's detini- 
 tion : " A sure trust and confidence which a. man has in 
 God, that througli the merits of Christ his sins are forgiven 
 and lie reconciled to the favor of God." Tlie main point, 
 they said, was "inward assurance;" also "instantaneous 
 assurance," for it is the gift of God, and what God gives 
 he gives at once. Wesley was conscious that he had 
 not this faith, yet he continued to preach it in tlie English 
 churches as something which was necessary, and to hope 
 that lie would himself receive it in due season. He 
 preached the need of an entire conversion even for those 
 baptized and educated in the Church ; and in consequence 
 of these doctrines he was frequently told that he should 
 not be allowed to preach again in places where he had 
 thus taught. The Moravians in London, with the remains 
 of the Oxford Methodists, now formed tliemselves into 
 a society. They met in little bands, or companies, of not 
 less than five nor more than ten, to speak freely of the 
 state of tlieir souls to each other. Every Wednesday they 
 all met together to have a conference, with prayer and 
 hymns. 
 
 Charles Wesley attained this new faitli when he was 
 thirty-five years old. John also found faith a little later, 
 May 24, 1738. He went that day, rather unwillingly, to a 
 meeting of a society where a man was reading Luther's 
 " Commentary on the Romans." Says Wesley : — 
 
 " About a quarter before nine, while he was describing the 
 change which God works in the heart throuLrh faith in Christ, 
 I felt my own heart strangely warmed. I felt that I dul trust 
 
360 EVENTS AND EPOCHS IN EELIGIOUS HISTOEY. 
 
 in Christ, in Christ alone, for salvation; and an assurance 
 was given me that he had taken away my sins, even mine, 
 and saved me fiom the law of sin and death. I began to 
 pray with all my might for those who had in a more special 
 manner despitefully used me and persecuted me. I then 
 testified openly to all there present of what I then felt in my 
 heart." 
 
 This feeling of joy and repose did not, however, remain 
 undisturbed, and Wesley came to the belief that true 
 faith does not prevent us from having moods of occasional 
 despondency and temptation. 
 
 His present belief was very different from his former 
 one. The Church system taught : " If one is baptized and 
 attends on Church ordinances, if he obeys the law of God 
 and strives to pray and to live rightly, God through these 
 outward means will save his soul." Wesley's new belief 
 was : " If one will feel his utter helplessness and inability 
 to do right, and will then have faith in God, God will give 
 him in his heart an assurance of pardon and safety. God 
 will enable him thenceforth to conquer his sins instead of 
 being overcome by them." " No merit, no gooduess in 
 man," said Wesley, " precedes the forgiving love of God. 
 God's pardoning mercy supposes nothing in us but a sense 
 of sin and misery ; and to all who see and feel and own 
 their sins, and their utter inability to remove them, God 
 will give this faith." 
 
 Between Wesley's new system and his former one there 
 was as irreconcilable an antagonism as between Luther's 
 doctrine and that of the Catholics. No wonder that he 
 was so speedily excluded from the churches ; no w^on- 
 der that when he told his friends, Mr. and Mrs. Hutton, 
 that he had been a Christian only live days, one of them 
 should say, " Take care, Mr. Wesley, how you despise the 
 benefits received from the two sacraments ; " and the 
 
JOHN WESLEY AND IIIS TIMES. 361 
 
 other, ratlier petulantly and illogically, " If you were not 
 a Christian before, you were a great hypocrite, for you 
 always made us believe that you were one." 
 
 § 3. The Farting of the Ways. His Neio System. — This 
 was the parting of the ways. From this time Wesley 
 commenced thai new and great career which made him 
 the reformer of England, the regenerator of the English 
 Church, and the means by whicli a new moral impulse was 
 given to the whole English-speaking people. It is impos- 
 sible not to see that this new conviction concerning Faith 
 was the secret of his power, just as it had been that of 
 Luther's. Wesley thus expresses himself in regard to 
 it: — 
 
 " If you seek salvation by faith, you may expect it as you 
 arc and expect it now. Tliero is an inseparable conuectiou be- 
 tween these three points, — expect it by faith, expect it as you 
 are, and expect it now. To deny one of them is to deny all ; 
 to allow one is to allow all. Say not, ' I cannot be accepted, 
 because I am not good enough.' Who is good enough, — who 
 ever was good enough to merit acceptance at God's hands 1 
 Say not, ' I am not contrite enough ; I am not sensible enough 
 of my sins.' I know it ; I would to God tliou wert more sen- 
 sible of them and more contrite a thousand-fold. But do not 
 stay for this. It may be God will make thee so." 
 
 But what is Faith according to Wesley ? Not an opin- 
 ion nor any nundier of opinions. A string of opinions is 
 no more Christian faith than a string of beads is Christian 
 holiness. A man may assent to three or twenty-three 
 creeds, to the Old and New Testaments, and yet have no 
 Christian faith. Faith is a power of seeing the spiritual 
 world. It is the eye of the new-born soul. 
 
 " No merit, no goodness in man, precedes the forgiving love 
 of God. His pardoning mercy supposes nothing in us but a 
 sense of our sin and misery ; and to all wlio sec and feel and 
 
362 EVENTS AND EPOCHS IN RELIGIOUS HISTORY. 
 
 own their wants and their utter inability to supply them, God 
 freely gives faith. Whosoever thou art, man, who hast the 
 sentence of death in thyself, unto thee saith the Lord, not ' Do 
 this, — perfectly obey all my commands — and live,' but ' Be- 
 lieve in the Lord Jesus Christ, and thou shalt be saved 1 ' " 
 
 After his doctrine of Faith came the doctrine of Assur- 
 ance. This was not an assurance of future salvation, but 
 of being now in the grace of God. This, Wesley thought, 
 was the common privilege of all Christians, yet he be- 
 lieved there might be exceptions ; some really having the 
 favor of God might go mourning all their days. 
 
 Wesley also insisted on his doctrine of Perfection. He 
 defined perfection to be a constant communion with God 
 which fills the heart with humble love, and he insisted 
 that to this every believer might attain ; yet he admitted 
 that it did not include the power of never thinking a use- 
 less thought or speaking a useless word. Such a perfec- 
 tion he regarded as inconsistent with a corruptible body. 
 " I want you to be all love," said he ; " this is the perfec- 
 tion I believe and teach." 
 
 Wesley had great charity for difference of opinion. He 
 said : — 
 
 " We may die ignorant of many truths, and yet be carried to 
 Abraham's bosom ; but if we die without love what will knowl- 
 edge avail 1 I will not quarrel with you about any opinion, — 
 only see that your heart be right toward God, that you know 
 and love Jesus Christ, that you love your neighbor, and walk 
 as your Master walked. I desire no more. I am sick of opin- 
 ions. I am weary to bear them. My soul loathes this frothy 
 food. Give me solid and substantial religion ; give me a hum- 
 ble gentle love for God and man, a life full of mercy and good 
 fruits, without partiality and without hypocrisy. Let my soul 
 be with such Christians as these, wherever they are and what- 
 soever opinions they may hold." 
 
JOHN WESLEY AND HIS TIMES. 363 
 
 He said of Pelagius : " By all I can pick up from ancient 
 authors, 1 guess he was both a wise and a lioly num." He 
 had a good opinion of Servetus, the opposer of the doctrine 
 of the Trinity ; and he i)ublished the Lile of a Unitarian, 
 Thomas Firmin, for tlie edification of his own followers. 
 He said: " I formerly thought that no one who denied the 
 Trinity could be really pious ; but I cannot argue against a 
 matter of fact. I dare not deny that Mr. Firmin was a 
 pious man." So lie tliouglit that tlie heathen would be 
 saved, and that many heathens had received divine revela- 
 tions. All this showed that, though Orthodox himself, he 
 could see the good in those of other opinions. 
 
 This was the way in which Wesley formulated to his 
 own mind the new convictions which were the source of 
 his future power, and of the vast good accomplished by 
 Methodism. Many tell us that the secret of Methodism is 
 that it appeals to the feelings, that it is an " emotional '* 
 system. True ; but how does it reach the feelings ? In 
 what way does it rouse the emotions ? It is by present- 
 ins: such a view of the divine love as shall make it seem 
 near to every soul, by bringing all men to see that the 
 door is open by which they can enter at once into the 
 kingdom nf Heaven. Faith in Christ, according to this 
 system, does not mean having this or that belief about 
 Christ, but it means trust in Christ's revelation of God as 
 Father, Friend, Redeemer, and Savior. When one actually 
 believes this, it must create emotion. The sight of the 
 love of God produces an answering human love; but this 
 emotion of love is the result of the truth seen, — otherwise 
 it is transient and ineffectual. 
 
 Justification ])y Faith was the doctrine preached by 
 Paul, by Augustine, by Luther, and by Wesley, and by 
 this preaching each of them began a new era of religious 
 lile and ]>rogress ; but we should much mistake if we sup- 
 
364 EVENTS AND EPOCHS IN RELIGIOUS HISTORY. 
 
 posed this to be only a theological dogma addressed to the 
 understanding. It was in each case a new revelation of 
 the divine love to the human heart. It means that the 
 Infinite Father of the human race is not merely a be- 
 ing of boundless benevolence, but is ready to become the 
 Friend and Savior of each particular soul that he has 
 made ; it means that in every soul, small or great, wise 
 or foolish, virtuous or full of faults, there is something dear 
 and precious to the Creator. As soon as this fact is seen 
 and believed, love springs up spontaneously in the heart, 
 and a new life begins. This is the doctrine of Faith. The 
 doctrine of Assurance simply means that as soon as we 
 know that God loves us we feel sure of pardon and safety. 
 The doctrine of Perfection means that there is no reason 
 why we should ever cease to live in this joyful sense of 
 the divine nearness to our heart, no reason why we should 
 not " live in the spirit and walk in the spirit " of grateful, 
 humble trust and gratitude. 
 
 § 4. Influence of his Preaching. The New Methods. Field 
 Precvching. Lay Preaching. Itinerancy. Class Meetings. — 
 We can easily see what a vast influence such preaching must 
 have exercised in a period when ethics and ritualism con- 
 stituted a large part of the instruction of the English pulpit. 
 The gratitude, love, and devoted sympathy of thousands of 
 hearts responded to this teaching. The immediate results 
 which followed showed that it was the truth meu needed 
 to hear. The careless and indifferent were roused to serious 
 thought ; reckless sinners were brought to repentance ; 
 anxious souls were encouraged ; the hardened were made 
 tender. An improvement in moral character followed at 
 once from this new faith. Men ceased to lie and steal, to 
 cheat and get drunk. These effects were so apparent that 
 it was impossible for Wesley to doubt that God had made 
 him an instrument to bless his fellow-men. He had put 
 
JOHN WESLEY AND II IS TIMES. oG5 
 
 his hand to the plough and must not go back ; but in order 
 to go forward it immediately became necessary to adopt 
 new methods. Fortunately Wesley had a great power for 
 organizing his work. Thus there soon came tield-preach- 
 ing, lay-preacliing, itinerant preaching, class-meetings, love- 
 feasts, the conlerences, and other contrivances to meet 
 emergencies as they arose. 
 
 All this time Wesley regarded himself as a priest of 
 the Church of England. He never wished to leave that 
 Church, and never did leave it. It left him ; it refused 
 to let him stand in its pulpits ; it oi)posed and stigmatized 
 his course as that of a fanatic and enthusiast ; but it does 
 not aj)pear that Wesley ever retaliated or did anythiug 
 which showed him to be estiunged from the Church of 
 England. 
 
 Field-preaching came from a twofold necessity. Wesley 
 preached in the streets and fields because he had no church 
 in which to preach, and also because people would come 
 to hear him in the lields who would never go into a church. 
 Whitefield had already adopted the practice of liolding 
 open-air meetings. To Wesley's conservative feelings this 
 was at first disagreeable. 
 
 " I could scarcely reconcile myself," he writes, " to this 
 strange way, having been all my life very tenacious of every 
 point relating to decency and order in worship. I should have 
 tliought the saving of souls almost a sin if not done in a 
 church." 
 
 Though Wesley cared for the form of religion, he cared 
 more for the substance. Seeing the vast good done by 
 Whitefield, he also adopted the practice of holding meet- 
 ings out of doors. He travelled over England, preaching 
 in church-yards, on the hill-sides, by the ocean, — wher- 
 ever people would come to hear. This was, of course, con- 
 
366 EVENTS AND EPOCHS IN RELIGIOUS HISTORY. 
 
 sidered very improper, but he answered the objections 
 thus : — 
 
 " I wonder at those who talk of the indecency of field-preach- 
 ing. The worst indecency T have seen was at St. Paul's Cathe- 
 dral, where people were sleeping or talking during the service. 
 The highest decency in worship I have seen in a field or a 
 church-yard, where the whole congregation behaved as if thej'" 
 saw the Judge of all visibly before them." 
 
 Sometimes, when he had finished the service, no one 
 moved, every one remaining in his place. Once a wall, on 
 which people were sitting, fell down. No one screamed, 
 but they adjusted themselves quietly to their new location. 
 The charm of nature assisted the impression made by his 
 words. One hot summer day the people sat on the grass 
 under a grove of sycamores, and during the service, the 
 birds sanf; sweetlv above their heads. 
 
 " At Greenup," said he, " I stood on a wall in the calm, still 
 evening, with an innumerable company behind, before, and 
 around. It was one of the most magnificent spectacles on this 
 side Heaven. No music on earth could compare with the 
 chorus of many thousand voices, singing the praise of God and 
 the Lamb." 
 
 At St. Ives he stood on a jutting rock above the sea, — 
 the ocean rolling on one side, the whole population of the 
 town on a sloping hill before him. There he preached 
 three evenings, and while the people sang, the roll of the 
 ocean made an undersong of worship. Near Newcastle he 
 preached amid the ruins of the vast cathedral, the setting 
 sun streaming through the broken arches and ivy-covered 
 windows. At Gowkham his church was the side of an 
 enormous mountain, where the concn-es^ation sat row above 
 row, as in a sylvan theatre. Once he had the ground 
 measured and found he was distinctly heard sixteen rods ; 
 
JOHN WESLKY AND HIS TIMES. 367 
 
 but the largest audience he ever addressed was at Gwenap, 
 where he spoke to thirty-two thousand people. He was 
 then seventy-six years old.^ In 1742 he came to Epworth, 
 his native i)lace, where he offered to preach in his lather's 
 church, but the curate in charge wouhl not permit it. He 
 therefore attended church in the morning as a hearer, and 
 listened to a sermon against Enthusiasm. At six o'clock 
 in the afternoon he preached in tlie churcli-yard, standing 
 on his father's tomb. This he did during seven successive 
 evenings, and made a profound impression. One man wlio 
 had not been to church for tliirty years came to Wesley to 
 ask what he should do to be saved. "Do you feel tliat you 
 are a sinner?" asked Wesley. "Yes, — sinner enough," 
 replied the penitent. Meantime the curate, who was one 
 of the baser sort, was full of rage, declaring that if Wesley 
 came to the communion he would refuse to admit him, for 
 he was not fit to partake of that sacrament. 
 
 Thus were large bodies of people reached who before 
 were strangers to tlie gospel. " The common people heard 
 him gladly." They learned with joy tliat God had sent 
 a message of love to their poor sad liearts, and would 
 comfort their hard lives. Homes before filled with the 
 sound of contention and oaths, were now musical with 
 the tender liymns of Charles Wesley. Wherever this re- 
 vival went it seemed to open the gates of Heaven to the 
 poor, the sad, the broken-hearted, the ignorant, tlie vicious. 
 Men were reformed who had been leading bad lives. Some 
 one said to Wesley : " I have never known a drunkard to 
 be really reformed." " I thank God," was the reply of 
 Wesley, " I have known five hundred." Field- preaching 
 was in reality carrying the gospel to the heathen, and it 
 called up from death to life tens of thousands to whom 
 
 1 Dr. FranJ<lin says that "Whitefield was heard by thirty thousand 
 people on one occasion. 
 
368 EVENTS AND EPOCHS IN RELIGIOUS HISTORY. 
 
 religion was before only a name ; for these were the days 
 of which it could be said : — 
 
 " I dreamed a dream, last Christmas Eve, 
 Of a people whose God was Make-Believe; 
 A dream of an old faith shrunk to a guess, 
 And a Christian Church and nation and press, 
 Who believed they believed it, — more or less." 
 
 The second new method of administering religion intro- 
 duced by Wesley was that of Lay-preaching. This came as 
 a matter of necessity, for the bishops refused to ordain 
 men for this work, and the number of ordained clergy- 
 men who sympathized with him was very small. . Wesley, 
 trained to believe in the clergy as a priesthood, and in the 
 apostolic succession of bishops, found it hard to bring his 
 mind to this measure ; but if his societies were to be main- 
 tained, he must make use of laymen. One wise bishop 
 indeed ordained one of his disciples, saying : " I ordain you 
 to help that good man Mr. Wesley, that he may not kill 
 himself with work ; " but this was an exception. 
 
 When we look back to the origin of Christianity, we are 
 surprised that there should ever have been such fear of 
 lay-preachers. The apostles were taken from their nets 
 and work, and sent out to preach the coming gospel with 
 no formal consecration. Christian worship was modelled 
 on that of the synagogue, in which all persons present were 
 allowed to speak. Jesus took the roll at Nazareth, and 
 expounded it. In one passage of the Book of Acts we are 
 told that in a synagogue in Asia Minor, where Paul and 
 Barnabas were present, they were invited by the rulers of 
 the synagogue to preach to the people, though they were 
 strangers who had just arrived. The " Apostolic Consti- 
 tutions," a book favorable to clerical pretensions, says : " If 
 any man, even a layman, be skilled in the expounding of 
 doctrines, and of reputable life, let him teach ; for all must 
 
JUlIN WESLKY AND HIS TIMES. oliO 
 
 be taught of God." Eusebius tells us that Origen preached 
 when a layman, and that in the presence of bishops. His 
 statement is that during a persecution Origen came to 
 Cajsarea. There he was requested by the hishojjs to ex- 
 pound the Sacred Scrii)tures publicly in the church, though' 
 he had not yet obtained the priesthood by the imposition 
 of hands. One Demetrius having objected that this was a 
 thing unheard of, the Bishop of Jerusalem rejdied that 
 Demetrius was certainly mistaken — "for wherever laymen 
 are found qualified to benefit the brethren they are invited 
 by the bishojjS to address the people."' 
 
 In Wesley there were two elements. He wa.-^ naturally 
 and by education conservative of old institutions and cus- 
 toms ; but he had also the consummate good sense which 
 will sacrifice any method, however valuable, in order to 
 gain the end for which the method was instituted, llecall 
 the anecdote of his mother and her assembly at Ep worth. 
 This wise and excellent woman showed a like spirit in 
 regard to lay-preaching. Wesley had already, as a matter 
 of absolute necessity, appointed some laymen to exhort 
 and expound the Scripture. His societies could not other- 
 wise have been maintained. From this to preaching there 
 was a short stej) in fact, but a very long one according to 
 Wesley's habits of thought. The first man to overstep the 
 boundary was Thomas Maxfield. Fervent in s})irit and 
 mighty in the Scri])tures, he greatly profited the people by 
 his preaching. Wesley was alarmed, and hastened to Lon- 
 don to check this innovation. His mother, who had In- 
 come Maxfield's adherent, saw that her son was displeased 
 at something, and asked what it was. "Thomas Maxfield 
 has turned preacher, I see," said he. "John," replied his 
 mother, "you know my sentiments, — take care what you 
 do with that young man. He is as certainly called to 
 
 1 Eusebius ; Ecclcsinstical History, VI. 19. 
 24 
 
370 EVENTS AND EPOCHS IN RELIGIOUS HISTORY. 
 
 preach as you are yourself. Examine the fruits of his 
 preaching and judge." Wesley heard him and said: "It 
 is the Lord ! Let him do as seews to him good." Great 
 objections were made to this disorderly proceeding. Wesley 
 said : — 
 
 " In ordinary cases it is true that both an inward and an 
 outward call are necessary, but there is something far from 
 ordinary in the present case ; and upon the calmest view of 
 things we think that they who are only called of God and not 
 of man have more right to preach than they who are only called 
 of man and not of God. Now that many of the clergy, though 
 called of man, are not called of God is undeniable. First, 
 because they themselves utterly disclaim, — nay, ridicule the 
 inward call ; secondly, because they do not know what the 
 gospel is, and consequently cannot preach it. I know I have 
 not gone too far as yet. I am extremely doubtful whether I 
 have gone far enough. I see the blind leading the blind, and 
 both falling into the ditch. Unless I warn these perishing souls 
 of their danger, am I clear of their blood 1 Soul-damning clergy- 
 men lay me under more difficulties thau soul-saving laymen." 
 
 This dialogue is reported to have taken place between 
 Charles Wesley and Dr. Eobinson, Archbishop of Dublin. 
 
 Bishop. I am surprised at your employing laymen. 
 
 Wesley. It is your fault, my Lord. 
 
 Bisho}). My fault % 
 
 Wesley. Yes, — yours and your brethren's. You hold your 
 peace, and the stones cry out. 
 
 Bishop. But I hear they are unlearned men 
 
 Wesley. True ! They are, in general. So the dumb ass 
 rebukes the prophet. 
 
 Wesley, however, repelled the charge of ignorance 
 brought against his preachers : — 
 
 " In the one thing which they profess to know, they are not 
 ignorant men. I trust there is not one of them who is not able 
 
JOHN WESLEY AND HIS TIMES. 371 
 
 to go through such an examination in suhstantial, practical, 
 experimental divinity as few of our camlidates for holy orders, 
 even in the University — 1 speak it with sorrow and shame — 
 are able to do." 
 
 Wesley, however, always exhorted his preachers to con- 
 tinual study. He wrute to one who had neglected this 
 means of improvement : — 
 
 " Hence your talent in preaching does not increase ; it is 
 just the same us it was seven years ago. It is lively but not 
 deep ; there is little variety ; there is no compass of thought. 
 Reading alone can supply this, with daily meditation and daily 
 prayer. Whether you like it or not, read and pray every day. 
 It is for your life ! There is no other way ; else you will be a 
 trifler all your days, and a pretty superficial preacher. Do jus- 
 tice to your own soul ; give it time and means to grow ; do not 
 starve yourself any longer." 
 
 He was very happy in advising and directing his 
 preachers. Sometimes playful, always kind and reasonable, 
 his authority over them was unbounded. One declared, 
 in a fit of low spirits, that he must leave off preaching, 
 as he thought himself out of his place. " Dear brother," 
 said Wesley, " you are out of your place, for you should be 
 praying ; whereas you are reasoning." One John Furz 
 heard a Methodist say, "There are two witnesses, now dead 
 and buried in the dust, who will rise in judgment against 
 you ; they are the Old and New Testaments, buried in 
 the dust on your shelf." He remembered that his Bible 
 was covered with dust and that lie had written his name 
 on the back witli his finger, and exclaimed : " I thought 
 I had signed my own danmation on the back of the 
 witnesses." He was converted and became a preacher. 
 
 Time would fail me to speak of these laymen, — so 
 strong, so devoted, so full of faith, courage, and love. 
 
372 EVENTS AND EPOCHS IN RELIGIOUS HISTORY. 
 
 Strong souls in strong bodies, each was able to do the 
 work of two or three common men. Used to hardship 
 they could bear cold and hunger, want of sleep and 
 comfort. Such a man was John Thorpe, who was con- 
 verted while drinking with others in an ale-house, and 
 trying for fun to preach like the Methodists. He was 
 struck to the heart by his own words while speaking. - 
 He went home dissolved in tears, and became a preacher. 
 Such an one was John Pawson, a farmer's son who heard 
 the Methodists and wished to join them. His father and 
 mother long opposed it, but by their son's faith were 
 themselves converted. Such a man was Matlier, a Scotch- 
 man, who worked all day in a bakery and yet found time 
 to preach. Often, he said, he did not get eiglit hours' 
 sleep in a week. He went round with the bread all day ; 
 in the evening he preached ; he worked preparing the 
 bread half the night; tlien went to preach again at five 
 in the morning ; at half- past six he went back again to 
 take the bread out of the oven, — and then began once 
 more the same daily round. 
 
 Thomas Olivers was a Welshman. Men said he was so 
 earnest in prayer that it seemed as if he would die on the 
 spot. To him all things were from God. He took his daily 
 food as though it were the Sacrament. He saw God in 
 everything. 
 
 The Methodists were mobbed, stoned, driven out of the 
 towns, put into prison as vagrants, brought before the 
 justices on the ground that they made people get up at 
 five in the morning and sing psalms all day. They were 
 exposed to the perils which Paul enumerates, and among 
 these the perils from false brethren. Wesley believed 
 himself obliged to separate from many of his early friends, 
 — from William Law ; from Whitefield and the Calvinistic 
 Methodists ; from the Moravians, his old teachers ; from 
 
JOHN WESLEY AND HIS TIMES. 373 
 
 the Antinomians ; but lie did not become bitter nor dog- 
 matic nor sectarian. II is serene spirit preserved him from 
 these temptations to which greater men liave yielded. lie 
 was pursuing unselfishly a work given liini to do by his 
 Master. This kept him from giving way to any personal 
 jealousy, envy, or uncharitableness. 
 
 The moral effects of Methodism were everywhere ap- 
 parent. " Are there any drunkards here ?" said a preacher. 
 "Yes, I am one," answered a poor Irishman, — and was 
 induced to break off the habit. This was one instance 
 of what often occurred. 
 
 Some of the Methodists had the habit of plundering 
 the wrecks on the coast (as w\as done by other people), or 
 received the plunder from the wreckers. One of the 
 preachers immediately inquired into it and found all of 
 the societies but one in that region had been " partakers 
 of the accursed thing." He preached repentance and 
 restitution, and with tears read out of the society sixty- 
 three members, promising to restore them if they would 
 make restitution. They not only did so, but others, not 
 belonging to the society, followed their example. 
 
 The third point of practical Methodism was the Itiner- 
 ant method. This also was a necessary and consistent part 
 of the system. If there were lay-preachers they must itin- 
 erate. When the object of preaching is to build up, instruct, 
 and edify, then there must be educated men who give to this 
 work all their time. They are able to preach constantly 
 to the same people. If the main object is to convert 
 sinners, then a man with a small stock of learning will 
 answer, but on the condition that he goes from place to 
 place. Thus his sermons will be always new and interest- 
 ing. Such is now the case with revival preachers, who 
 never stay long in one town. It was so with Whitefield 
 too, who had a very sni:ill stock of sermons and ideas, but 
 used them with marvellous power. 
 
374 EVENTS AND EPOCHS IN RELIGIOUS HISTORY. 
 
 Wesley says, arguing for the necessity of frequent change 
 of location by the preachers : — 
 
 " I know that if I were to preach one whole year in one 
 place I should preach both myself and my congregation asleep. 
 Nor can I ever beheve it to be the will of God that any con- 
 gregation should have only one teacher. This preacher has 
 one talent, — that one has another. No one, whom I ever yet 
 knew, had all the talents for beginning, continuing, and perfect- 
 ing a work of grace in a congregation." 
 
 Wesley thought a preacher ought not to stay more than 
 six or eight weeks with the same people : — 
 
 " He cannot find matter longer than this for preaching every 
 morning and evening, nor will the people come to hear him ; 
 hence he will not get up to preach at five. Whereas, if he never 
 stays more than a fortnight together in one place, he may find 
 matter enough, and the people will gladly hear him." 
 
 There was an immense gain of power by this system. 
 Instead of two or three sermons a week a man could 
 preach twelve or fifteen, — and good ones. No doubt some- 
 thing was also lost. The system of a stationary ministry 
 would not have been so general if there had not been great 
 advantages in that also ; but for Wesley's purpose the 
 results of itinerancy were all-important. 
 
 Another very essential and useful part of the Methodist 
 organization was the Class-meeting. This also came from 
 an emergency, and was no part of a prearranged plan. 
 At Bristol, where they were collecting contributions for a 
 church, one of those present proposed that every member 
 should give one penny a week. It was objected to this 
 that all might not be able to pay the penny. The proposer 
 then added : " Let one unite with eleven others and collect 
 from them as many pence as he can each week, but be him- 
 
JOHN WESLKY AND HIS TIMKS. 375 
 
 self responsible for the sllillin<,^ 1 myself will be one of 
 the collectors." In going about among them to collect the 
 pence he found it a good occasion to talk with them about 
 their souls. Then it was found convenient to meet to- 
 gether, and so there came tlie clas.s-meeting and class- 
 leaders. Wesley justly considered tliese meetings as among 
 the most important of his instruments. He would hardly 
 admit that any society which did iKjt maintain them was a 
 part of his body. In fact they take the })lace of the con- 
 fessional in the .Roman Catholic Church, having its privacy 
 without its secrecy. 
 
 § 5. Opposition to Mcthodis7ii. Persecution of the Preach- 
 ers. — Something must be said of the opposition to Meth- 
 odism by the clergy and the rabble. Nelson was pressed 
 for a soldier ; Wesley himself was once taken by the 
 press-gang, Ijut finding him so respectable a gentleman 
 they were glad to let him go again. Many absurd calum- 
 nies were told about him. He was said to have been 
 confined for selling gin ; to be a Quaker, a Catholic, an 
 Anabaptist ; to be going to join tlie Spaniards, and to have 
 hanged himself. He and his followers were everywhere 
 mobl)ed. The magistrates sometimes interfered to protect 
 them, but more often allowed the mob to do as it liked. 
 
 There were at Wednesbury, during a space of four or 
 five months, riots which were encouraged by magistrates, 
 in which the houses of the Methodists were broken open 
 and tlie inmates abused. Wesley heard of tliis and went 
 directly to the place. He was a man used to look danger 
 in the face. He preached at midday in the middle of the 
 town, and there was no disturbance. The people met 
 again in the evening and were awed and soothed by his 
 calmness. 
 
 Once, when Mather was prcacliing at Wolverhampton 
 the mob pulled down the preaching-house. An attorney 
 
376 EVENTS AND EPOCHS IN RELIGIOUS HISTORY. 
 
 led them on and made the first breach. Mather gave him 
 his choice of rebuilding it at his own expense, or being 
 tried for his life. The house was rebuilt, and there were 
 no more riots in that place. Mather was a cool and 
 courageous man, tender-liearted also, and charitable. This 
 is the account which he gives of his conversion : — 
 
 " What I experienced in my own soul was an instantaneous 
 deliverance from all those wrong tempers and affections which 
 I had long and sensibly groaned under. From that moment I 
 found an unspeakable pleasure in doing the will of God in 
 all things. I had also the power to do it, and the constant 
 approbation of my own conscience. Above all I had uninter- 
 rupted communion with God whether sleeping or waking." 
 
 I must say a word of another of Wesley's lay-preachers, 
 Thomas Walsh, an Irishman and originally a Catholic. He 
 was converted at a Methodist meeting. 
 
 "And now," says he, "I felt of a truth that faith is the 
 substance of things hoped for, and the evidence of things not 
 seen. God, and the things of the invisible world, of which I 
 had only heard before by the hearing of the ear, appeared now 
 in their true light as substantial realities. Faith gave me to 
 see a reconciled God and all-sufficient Savior. I drew water 
 out of the wells of salvation. I walked and talked with God 
 all day long. Whatsoever I believed to be hiB will I did with 
 my whole heart. I could unfeignedly love those who hated 
 me." 
 
 He often studied the Bible on his knees. His prayer 
 was : " Lord Jesus, I lay my soul at thy feet to be taught 
 and governed by thee. Take the veil from this mystery 
 and show me the truth as it is in thyself Be thou my 
 sun and star by day and by night." 
 
 Walsh wore himself out with excessive labors. He 
 lived much in a state of abstraction ; he walked the streets 
 
JOHN WESLEY AND HIS TIMKS. 377 
 
 and saw notliing. He was a hard student of the Bible in 
 Hebrew and Greek. If a.skt'd i'or any Hebrew or Greek 
 words lie could usually tell where they occurred, how often, 
 and what they meant in each place. He rose at four 
 o'clock to study. His friends remonstrated, but he said : 
 "Shall a man rob God ?" He was like a Catholic saint, 
 often lost in glorious raptuie on liis knees, — his face 
 heavenward, his arms clasped around his Vjreast in such 
 composure that he could scarcely be seen to breathe, 
 and his soul absorbed in God, Something like a serene 
 splendor was seen on his countenance afterward. Even in 
 sleep his soul went out in groans and tears and sighs to 
 God. 
 
 § 6. Great Influence of Wesley. Spread of Methodism. 
 Benefit of this Reform. — Amid such labors, — preaching 
 every morning at five o'clock ; travelling on horseback or 
 in a carriage three thousand miles every year ; the absolute 
 head of the large and ever increasing connection ; meeting 
 the conferences ; advising preachers ; establishing schools, 
 and writing a complete set of books for them, — Wesley 
 gradually advanced in years. He retained his health and 
 strength wonderfully. At eighty-two he believed himself 
 as strong and as able to labor as at twenty-one. He 
 continued his circuits and preaching to the last. He 
 attributed his health, under God, to his habit of early 
 rising and preaching every morning at five, to his taking 
 so much e.xercise every year, and his temperate mode of 
 life. No doubt his serenity and peace of mind, and his 
 constant occupation with the best kind of labor, con- 
 tributed not a little to this result. He was the hap- 
 piest man alive if, as has been said, " Power and aim 
 are the two halves of human felicity." He had as con- 
 temporaries many distinguished men ; but wliose career, 
 if usefulness is the test, could be compared with his ? 
 
378 EVENTS AND EPOCHS IN RELIGIOUS HISTORY. 
 
 Wesley might have truly felt as if he were a power 
 sent by God to create souls, when he looked around on 
 his large body of itinerants and lay-preachers, and remem- 
 bered what sort of men they had been, — how many 
 had been profligate, ignorant, and wicked, and now were 
 full of the most ardent piety ; with active minds, so 
 earnest, holy, and self-denying ; such tender-hearted men. 
 He might well apply to himself the sacred text ; for 
 through his agency the blind received their sight, the 
 lame walked, the lepers were cleansed, the deaf heard, 
 the dead were raised, and the poor had the gospel preached 
 unto them. This flame of piety, the fiery influence which 
 produced such changes, so refining the rude and enlight- 
 ening the ignorant, reminds one of that geological change 
 in what are called metamorphic rocks, where a stream of 
 melted lava changes, by its intense heat, coarse limestones 
 into beautiful marbles, and clay into jasper. 
 
 The Scripture comparison of a moral truth to a seed is 
 one which seems to lie in tlie very nature of things. As 
 a oTcat tree "rows from a small seed, so a vast institution 
 when traced back to its origin, is often found to have 
 come with all its details from a conviction in some 
 obscure mind. Thus the Eeformation, which rent asunder 
 the Universal Church, came from a living belief in the 
 soul of Luther; so the Society of Jesus, which has fought 
 the battles of the lioinan Church on every continent and 
 beaten back the rising tide of the Eeformation, grew out 
 of a conviction in the mind of Loyola ; so the Society of 
 Friends, with its lofty testimony for worship in spirit and 
 truth, for peace, for simplicity and purity, came from a seed 
 in the heart of George Fox ; and so Methodism was born 
 when John Wesley caught sight of a new doctrine con- 
 cerning Faith. And " to every seed its own body." The 
 doctrine of the inner light grew up naturally into the 
 
JOHN WESLEY AND HIS TIMES. 370 
 
 Quaker protest against all outward authority, — a.f:,^ainst 
 the authority of the Cliurch, the Scripture, the Ministry, 
 the Sacraments, worldly customs and fashions. But the 
 Methodist doctrine of divine love in the heart ruslied out 
 into a great sympathetic movement, which swept into 
 its vortex of affection vast nudtitudes who cared little 
 about tlie Quaker criticisms or the Quaker individualism. 
 The doctrine of an inward light created the Society of 
 Friends ; the doctrine of an inward lore created the 
 Methodist communion ; and as men care more for affection 
 than for thought, as the heart easily feels by sympathy 
 what the head is slow to attain, it was in the nature of 
 things that the growth of Methodism should far surpass 
 tluit of Quakerism. 
 
 The rapid and wide prevalence of the Methodist denomi- 
 nation is indeed one of the great events in religious 
 history. Wesley was converted to his new faith in May, 
 1738. A hundred and fifty years have not passed since 
 that time, but into what a great tree has that little seed 
 grown, — one in which all the birds of the air can buikl 
 their nests. 
 
 It is stated that in England at the present time the 
 different Methodist connections have five thousand minis- 
 ters and a million church-members. In our own country 
 its success has been still greater, for by the census of 
 1870 it had twenty-five thousand churches and a following 
 of four or five millions, being nnich the largest religious 
 denomination in the land. 
 
 The Methodist church has been not merely the Church 
 of the Mustard Seed, it has also been the Church of the 
 Leaven. Its spirit has gone into other denominations and 
 imparted to them new life. When it began its career the 
 religious condition of Kngland was very low. " Never," 
 says a modern writer, " has there been a century in Eng- 
 
380 EVENTS AND EPOCHS IN RELIGIOUS HISTORY. 
 
 land so void of faith as that which began with Queen 
 Anne and ended with George IL, — when the Puritans 
 were buried and the Methodists were not yet born." What 
 must have been the state of things when Archdeacon 
 Paley, addressing the young clergy in the Diocese of Car- 
 lisle, found it necessary to exhort them " not to get drunk, 
 or to frequent ale-houses, ... to avoid profligate habits, 
 . . . not to be seen at drunken feasts or barbarous diver- 
 sions ; " and in reading the service, " not to perform it 
 with reluctance or quit it with symptoms of delight." 
 This advice was not unnecessary. Dr. Knox, head-master 
 of Tunbridge School, says : " The public have remarked 
 wdth indignation that some of the most distinguished 
 coxcombs, drunkards, debauchees, and gamesters who 
 figure at watering-places, are young men of the sacerdotal 
 order." Arthur Young wrote that " the French clergy 
 are more decent than the English ; they are not poachers 
 or fox-hunters who spend the morning with the hounds, 
 the evening at the bottle, and reel from drunkenness into 
 the pulpit." As for the laboring classes they were left to 
 perish uncared for ; no man cared for their souls. Meth- 
 odism was needed ; and, in the Providence of God, 
 Methodism came. 
 
 As far as we can see, it saved England from utter moral 
 corruption ; but, like all other great movements for the 
 good of the race, it was received with dislike, persecution, 
 and slander. "The literature of forty years overflowed 
 with ridicule of Methodism." 
 
 § 7. Wesley's Conversion from Ritualism the Turning- 
 -point in his whole Career. — None of the numerous writers 
 on Methodism seem to be aware of the gulf which sepa- 
 rated Wesley's early and later forms of religion. Even his 
 latest Methodist biographer, Tyerman, speaks of Methodism 
 as though it began at Oxford. But one of the most striking 
 
JOHN WESLEY AND HIS TIMES. 381 
 
 features of this whole extraordinary history was this, that 
 the early and later religious systems of Wesley were radi- 
 cally opposed to each other, — so opposite that he himself 
 always declared tliat he was no Christian till after he saw 
 John Boehler ; and yet in zeal, sincerity, devotion, sacrifice, 
 his first religious life was like his last. He believed essen- 
 tially the same doctrines in both ; in both his one object 
 in life was religion ; yet the difference was as radical as 
 he himself declared it to be. From the time he went to 
 Oxford until he met the Moravians, his object was to save 
 his soul ; after that time his purpose was to save the souls 
 of others. Under the first dispensation he was what we 
 now call a Puseyite, practising austerities, receiving fre- 
 quent sacraments, secluding himself from the world. He 
 and his companions read the prayers of the Church fre- 
 quently, kept all its holy days, slept little, ate frugally, 
 spent an hour every morning and evening in private 
 prayer, were tenacious of the doctrine and discipline of 
 the Church in the minutest points, scrupulously strict 
 in observing all its rubrics and canons. " We were," 
 said Wesley afterward, " in the strongest sense High 
 Churchmen." 
 
 It seems that they practised Confession, and discussed 
 the propriety of mixing water with the sacramental wine. 
 Wesley seriously thought of forming a society which should 
 strictly observe saints' days, holidays, Saturdays, and mix 
 the sacramental wine with water. He refused to accept 
 his father's rectorate at Epworth, because he thouglit he 
 could be more holy at Oxford ; and because the care of 
 two thousand souls was more than he dared undertake. 
 Afterward he had no such fear, no such sense of respon- 
 sibility ; he willingly kept tlie charge of hundreds of 
 thousands of souls, and the care of all the churches. 
 
 The radical difference between this first state and the 
 
382 EVENTS AND EPOCHS IN RELIGIOUS HISTORY. 
 
 last lies just here, — that in the one prayers, sacraments, 
 good works, and sacrifices were all performed in order to 
 save his soul ; in the last state they were done out of 
 gratitude and love, because his soul had been saved. His 
 soul was safe ; he was able to trust his soul to God ; he 
 had no more anxiety about it ; his heart henceforth was 
 full of joy and hope. He saw there was no reason why 
 others should not have the same happiness with himself. 
 He had not gained it by labors, fastings, or long religious 
 exercises, but by a simple act of trust in the divine love. 
 Any one else might do the same, — might do it imme- 
 diately, and so pass from death to life. In this lay the 
 secret of the power of Methodism, — this assurance that 
 " now is the day of salvation " for all mankind. Nor can we 
 fail to see that this great change in the inner conviction 
 and life of Wesley was identical with that through which 
 Paul passed from Jewish ritualism into the freedom of the 
 sons of God ; identical also with that by which Luther 
 passed from Eoman Catholic ritualism into the liberty of 
 the gospel of love. Three religious movements have thus 
 had their oric^in in the same chanoe of conviction in three 
 human souls. In the language of technical theology the 
 new conviction is named " Justification by Faith and not by 
 Works " ; but its essence is below all theology, and means 
 that the soul has realized the immanent necessary relation 
 between the infinite strength and the human weakness, 
 between the divine love and the earthly need. When this 
 experience has once been felt in the heart, there is no 
 longer any need of priests, altars, sacrifices, or ritual. All 
 forms melt and dissolve in the fire of this heavenly love. 
 It is the creation of a new life, — and out of this new life 
 in one man, thousands and tens of thousands of his fel- 
 low men are made alive also. Whoever does not perceive 
 this has missed the meaning of Methodism. Methodism 
 
JOHN WESLEY AND IIIS TIMES. 383 
 
 is Ritualism developed into a liij^dier stage of Christian 
 experience, liitualism is Methodism arrested at a lower 
 period of its development. 
 
 If Wesley had continued in those religious convictions 
 and habits which he had at Oxford and in America, he 
 would have lived and died a <^ood and holv man, hut 
 lie would not have lieen the founder of Methodism. The 
 spirit of freedom, conlidence, power, which carried him 
 triumphantly on year after year, would have been wanting ; 
 the courage would have been wanting which led him to 
 defy all difficulties and dangers ; the inward peace would 
 have been wanting whicli made him cheerful and glad of 
 heart in the midst of obloquy and opposition, wlien the 
 timid good stood aloof, and the wise frowned. 
 
 These truths which are at the root of Methodism make 
 up a very large and comprehensive system, not composed 
 by an arbitmry selection, but by the action of a loving soul, 
 seeking for truth in order to be saved from error and sin, 
 and humble enough to be taught by any one who seems 
 to stand on a higher ground. Methodisn] is therefore not a 
 one-sided system, not a mere enthusiasm, but it combines 
 the tmths and avoids the errors of many tendencies of 
 tliouglit. Wesley was fii*st under the influence of the Eng- 
 lish Church, and ahvays retained a respect for its venemble 
 forms, its moderation, its anti-Calvinistic view of luiman 
 nature, its wholesome etliics. He can-ied out logically this 
 system to the extreme of Puseyism ; but when he saw that 
 the soul could not be saved by any system of works, but only 
 by union with God and by his grace shed from on high, 
 he transferred to the religious life after justification, the 
 ascetic discipline which he rejected as a viemui of justifi- 
 cation. He thus avoided the Antinomian heresy, while he 
 exalted faith as high as the Antinomians have done. The 
 Churchmen who preached morality could nut but admit tliat 
 
384 EVENTS AND EPOCHS IN RELIGIOUS HISTORY. 
 
 the Methodists did more to improve the morals of the com- 
 munity than they themselves had ever accomplished. The 
 next influence on the mind of Wesley was from William 
 Law, whom he always regarded as a man of God. From him 
 he learned a far higher standard of Christian character than 
 the Church had given him ; and though he afterward thought 
 that Law did not set forth a salvation freely given through 
 faith, but a refined and elevated legality, he adopted all 
 his views of Christian character in his doctrine of Perfec- 
 tion, — putting after justification what he believed Law 
 had put in the place of it. From the Moravians he 
 learned his doctrine of an inward assurance of pardoned 
 sin ; but he rejected the Moravian opposition to growth 
 in grace, and their doctrine of an infused holiness. 
 He always opposed the Calvinistic doctrine of Abso- 
 lute Decrees, which he thus characterized : " The sum 
 of Predestination is this, — one in twenty of mankind 
 are elected, nineteen reprobated. The Elect shall be 
 saved, do what they will; the Reprobate be damned, do 
 what they can." 
 
 § 8. Methodist Hymns. Conclusion. — I must say one 
 word at least about the hymnology of Methodism. The 
 Wesleyan hymns I am inclined to put at the head of tliis 
 literature. For depth of conviction, truth of sentiment, 
 spontaneous flow, they are nowhere surpassed and rarely 
 equalled. Tlie hymns of Watts have a stately march ; 
 those of Doddridge flow out calmly and solemnly from a 
 deep source ; the hymns of Montgomery have a poetic 
 charm ; Faber's are like the notes of a lark out of the 
 depth of the sky ; such hymns as those of Heber, Bowring, 
 Pierpont, are typical of high culture filled with religious 
 life ; those of Gill cannot be surpassed in the expression of 
 delicate shades of Christian experience ; but for the union 
 of love and light, spiritual insight and poetic freedom, 
 
JOHN WESLEY AND HIS TIMES. 385 
 
 there is nothing to compare witli tlie best hymns of Charles 
 ^Vesley, which spring pure and transparent like some 
 divine water out of the ground of Methodist experience, 
 lie wrote many very prosaic ones; some full of contro- 
 versy, — hymns against the Calvinists, against the formalists, 
 against dead Orthodoxy, ag.'unst intickdity in the universi- 
 ties, against the false doctrine of Terfection, against the 
 " horrible decree," (as he names one poem,) and hymns in 
 defence of the Trinity ; but liuw tender are his hymns of 
 sympathy, how full of filial love his hymns of supplication, 
 how warm with the very soul of human brotlierhood his 
 social hymns ! All the events of his life went into song ; 
 and as Horace says of Lucilius, so we may say of Charles 
 Wesley, that his biography is in these poetic pictures, like 
 votive taldets hanging on the wall of a temple. One hymn 
 of trium])h was written by him when escaping from a mob 
 who tried to stone him ; another was composed while going 
 to Wakefield to be tried /or treason ; one was on sending a 
 child to a boarding-school ; one w^as for a musician ; one 
 for a new-born child ; one for mechanics at work. The 
 Quakers did not write liymns, but Charles Wesley com- 
 posed one which is full of the spirit and doctrine of that 
 Society. No Quaker poet, be he Bernard Barton or Wliit- 
 tier, could have written a better. I refer to the beautiful 
 hymn beginning : — 
 
 " Open, Lord ! mine inward ear ! " 
 
 In these Lectures I have endeavored to enforce one idea 
 taught us in history : namely, that no historic event is so 
 important as the advent of a conviction, of a new truth. 
 I have tried to show the power of such convictions in 
 the human soul to build up institutions, to change the 
 coui"se of events, and to alter the tendencies of human 
 afHiirs ; and that, among all convictions, there are none 
 
 25 
 
386 EVENTS AND EPOCHS IN RELIGIOUS HISTORY. 
 
 SO strong, permanent, and unconquerable as religious 
 convictions. 
 
 These lives teach us that in man there is something 
 higher than sense, — a principle of conscience which can 
 defy all earthly suffering and renounce all earthly joy in 
 obedience to the lofty voice of the soul within. They 
 make new for us in every age the immortal words of the 
 Scriptures concerning those who "look not at the things 
 which are seen, but at the things which are not seen ; " 
 knowing that "the things which are seen are temporal, 
 but the things which are not seen are eternal." 
 
INDEX. 
 
INDEX. 
 
 A. 
 
 Abbeville manufactures, 333. 
 
 Abbey of Citeaux, 159. 
 
 Abbevs, English, 90. 
 
 Abehird, 208. 
 
 Abolitionists and Emerson, 292. 
 
 Abraham, St., ascetic, ^0. 
 
 Absorption into God, 79. 
 
 Advertisements in catacombs, 10, 
 
 Affrighted spirit, Swcdenborg's 
 story, 288. 
 
 Age of Augustine {sect ion, p. 139). 
 
 Agnes, St., 39. 
 
 Agrippa, Cornelius, 283. 
 
 Agrippa the Magician, 277. 
 
 Ajunta vihara, 71, 72. 
 
 A Kempis, Imitatione, 281 ; liis in- 
 fluence on Wesley, 352. 
 
 Alaric's invasion, 140. 
 
 Alberti, the Florentine genius, 220. 
 
 Albert us Magnus, 153. 
 
 Albigenses and St. Dominic, 101 ; in 
 13tli century {section, p. 335) ; 
 not Waldenses, 327. 
 
 Alcott, A. Bronson, 295. 
 
 Alexander VI., pope, crimes, 253; 
 bribes, 223. 
 
 Allyre, St., abbey, 104. 
 
 Alms-bowls, Buddhist, 08, 65. 
 
 Alphabet in spiritual world, 286. 
 
 Alumnus in catacombs, 42. 
 
 Amana society, 114. 
 
 Ambrose, bishop of Milan, 131, 140. 
 
 America, Wesley in {section, p. 350) ; 
 Geo. Fox in, 317. 
 
 American Martyrdom, 117. 
 
 Anabaptists at ^NFunster, 251. 
 
 Anchorites {section, p. 84) ; Bud- 
 dhist, 52 ; supersede martyrs 
 {section, p. 80). 
 
 Annesley, Susannah, Wesley's 
 mother, 353. 
 
 Anselm, archbishop {lecture V.); 
 allusion to, 2 ; Canterbury, 150 ; 
 exile, 149-151; existence of 
 God, 152-154; meditations and 
 prayers, 14G, 147; metaphysi- 
 cian, 151 ; work and study, 140. 
 
 Anthony, St., 80, 117. 
 
 Anthony of Padua, 112. 
 
 Antinomians and Wesley, 373. 
 
 Antioch monks, 88. 
 
 Antoninus, persecution, 10. 
 
 Antwerp cathedral, 50. 
 
 Aosta, Anselm's birthplaee, 143. 
 
 ApoUonius of Tyana, 277. 
 
 Apostates, Hindoo from Catholi- 
 cism, 269. 
 
 Appian Wa}', 6-8. 
 
 Aquinas, Thomas, 102, 135, 153, 
 1G5. 
 
 Arbitrations of Bernard {section, 
 p. 160). 
 
 Arcosolium, catacombs, 21. 
 
 Architecture, Buddhist {section, 
 p. 67) ; pointed of 13th centu- 
 ry, 102. 
 
 Arianism, 141. 
 
 "Ark of Fugitives," Holland. 334. 
 
 Arnold, abbot, cruel order, 337. 
 
 Arrabbiati, Florentine party, 230, 
 231. 
 
 Art, daugliter of religion, 74. 
 
 Asceticism, unscrijitural, 83, 87. 
 
 Asia, Jesuits in, 2(iG, 271. 
 
 Asoka, king, OS; and Constantino 
 compared, 61. 
 
 Assurance, doctrine, 362. 
 
 Asureis, Hindoo, 40. 
 
 Atheism in France, 340. 
 
 Atonement, Anseira on, 155, 150. 
 
390 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 Augustine, Aurelius {lecture V.) ; 
 allusion to, 2 ; character {sec- 
 tion, p. 139) ; conversion, 131- 
 134; death, 136; desire for 
 truth {section, p. 127) ; devotion 
 to Cliristianity, 135 ; doctrines, 
 136; ideas, 83; influence, {sec- 
 tion, p. 189); life, 124-126; 
 period of, {section, p. 139) ; 
 prophet of truth, 123. 
 
 " Augustine's Confessions " {section, 
 p. 123.) 
 
 " Aurora," Boehme's, 281. 
 
 Aurora community, 114. 
 
 Avdtars, Hindoo, 49. 
 
 B. 
 
 " Babylonish Captivity," by Luth- 
 er, 249. 
 
 Bacon, Roger, 112, 121. 
 
 Bancroft, the historian, on Fox, 
 318, 321. 
 
 Banishment of Jesuits, 270. 
 
 Banner of Jeanne, 180. 
 
 Baptism, Quaker view, 300. 
 
 Barbauld, Mrs., authoress, 345. 
 
 Barclay the Quaker, 318 et scq ; his 
 " Apology," 320. 
 
 Barre, colonel, the friend to America, 
 345. 
 
 Basil, St., 14, 93. 
 
 Bartholomew, St., massacre of, 328. 
 
 Baugency, French city, 18G. 
 
 Baville and Cainisards, 310. 
 
 Bayle, on Luther's morals, 255. 
 
 Bl'c, monastery of, 143, 144. 
 
 Beggar, Eckhart's Story, 280. 
 
 Beliar rock-temples, 69. 
 
 Bt'tk-Jia-haim, tomb, 8. 
 
 Benares, city, 47. 
 
 Benedetto, Savonarola's disciple, 
 229, 239. 
 
 Benedict, St., his rule {section, p, 92); 
 the, " of the East," 89. 
 
 Benedictine monks, 294. 
 
 Bengal temples, 69. 
 
 Benivieni, Savonarola's friend, 239. 
 
 Berenger's heresies, 145. 
 
 Bernard, St., 2, {section, p. 157); at 
 Citeaux, 159; a mystic, 280; 
 church reforms, 252, 253 ; cru- 
 sades, 164 ; general reformer, 
 131 ; higher law, 166, note ; mir- 
 
 acles, 160 ; rebukes principali- 
 ties, 160-162. 
 
 Berlin and Huguenots, 334. 
 
 Bestial natures, Fox on, 305. 
 
 Bediel community, 114. 
 
 Bhagavat-geeta, 90, 275, 277. 
 
 Bhilsa, India, 60. 
 
 Bible in ourselves, 308 ; with dusty 
 covers, anecdote, 371. 
 
 Bichat the author, 2. 
 
 Black-death, plague. 111. 
 
 Blanc, Mt., Luther compared to, 256 
 
 Blangdon, Barbara, Quaker, 321. 
 
 Bluntness of Savonarola, 231. 
 
 Boehler and Wesley, 359, 381 
 
 Boehme, Jacob, the mystic, 273, 
 275, 276, 281, 293. 
 
 Bologna, Savonarola at, 222. 
 
 Boniface VIII, two swords, 253- 
 
 Bonzes, Chinese, 59. 
 
 Borgia family, 231, 233. 
 
 Borromeo, St. Chas., 95, 272. 
 
 Bosio, Antonio, catacombs, 20. 
 
 Bosquet, Andrew, Huguenot, 332. 
 
 Bossuet, the preacher, 2 ; and Hu- 
 guenots,330 ; as persecutor, 282. 
 
 Boston, Huguenot families, 347. 
 
 Bo-tree, sacred, 47. 
 
 Bottari, on catacombs, 21. 
 
 Bouteiller on Jeanne d'Arc, 208. 
 
 Bowdoin, Governor, 347. 
 
 Bowring's hymns, 384. 
 
 Boyhood of Lutlier {section, p. 241). 
 
 Brahmans baptized by deceit, 268. 
 
 Brahmanism and Buddhism, 49. 
 
 Brahm, nature of, 277. 
 
 Brandenburg protects Huguenots, 
 333. 
 
 Broglie, Count de, and Camisards, 
 
 OOQ 
 
 ooo. 
 
 Buddha, meaning of, 47. 
 
 Buddhism {lecture III.) ; before 
 Buddha, 62 ; Catholic parallels 
 to, 75 ; Protestant similarities 
 to, 75. 
 
 Buddhist architecture {section p. 67); 
 immortality {section, p. 75). 
 
 Buckle, Thos., the historian, 2. 
 
 Buildings, outgrowth of religion, 67. 
 
 Bull against Luther, 249 ; of Anti- 
 christ, 257. 
 
 Buonaventura, seraphic doctor, 112. 
 
 Bury, Portuguese priest, 59. 
 
 Burke, author, 2. 
 
 Burney, Miss, novelist, 345. 
 
INDEX. 
 
 391 
 
 Burroughs, Edward, Quaker, 321. 
 Biisch, John, BcMiodictine, 254. 
 Bustaini, the Ssufi, 277. 
 
 c. 
 
 Cabnla, Jewish, 219, 275. 
 
 ( 'tulmuT, fiirindc ac si, Jesuit, 2G5. 
 
 Cajetan, i)a])al icfjate, 21S. 
 
 Calas case of (sn-tl<»i, p. lH:]). 
 
 Calixtus III., pope, 207. 
 
 Calvin, Jolin, in iieaven, 288. 
 
 Camahloli monks, 05. 
 
 " Caniisard," meaning of, 337. 
 
 Camisards, {serdon p. 335). 
 
 Canonization of Savonarola, 240. 
 
 Canterbury, Ansehu {s^n'tiou^ p. 149). 
 
 Capuchin monks. 111. 
 
 Cardinal's hats sohl, 238. 
 
 Carlstadt and Luther, 251. 
 
 Carmelites, religious order, 253. 
 
 Carnival orgies in Florence, 232. 
 
 Carthusian monks, 05. 
 
 Cassino, Mt., and Benetlict, 03, 94. 
 
 Catacombs {Itctuics I. and II.) ; 
 aitnaiia, 5 ; bttsiUcas above, 19 : 
 Calixtus, 12, 14; cemeteries, 0; 
 chantjes iu structure, 13, 14 ; 
 cippiis, (i; closed, 20; columba- 
 ria, G ; cubicula, 5 ; Diocletian, 
 12; galleries, 4; general, 4; 
 liiding-places, 14 ; inscriptions, 
 8 ct srtj ; love-feasts, 10 ; lumi- 
 nari,b; material, 4; meaning, 
 4; places of worship, 11 ; publi- 
 cations, 20; retreats, 11 ; sacred 
 places (section, p. 18) ; spiragli, 
 5 ; tufa, 4. 
 
 Cathedral of Florence, 224. 
 
 Cathedrals, English, 67. 
 
 Catherine of Sienna, 281 ; St., of 
 Persia, 278. 
 
 Catholic concessions to Brahman- 
 ism, 2G8 ; opposition to Jesuits, 
 2GG. 
 
 Cavalier, the Caniisard, 338 et seq. 
 
 Cecilia, St., 10. 
 
 Cedar Vale conmiunity, 14. 
 
 Celibacy, Buddhist. 59. 
 
 Celsus, ancient author, 11. 
 
 Cemeteries, catacombs (section, 
 p. G) ; protection, 10. 
 
 Cemetery, definition of, 5, 6. 
 
 Ceylon, captive, 59 ; priesthood, 59. 
 
 Chaityas, or pagodas, 70. 
 
 Chalons, bishop of, saved Bernard's 
 life, IGO. 
 
 Chapel, old, of Luther, 247. 
 
 Character of Savonarola (section, 
 p. 231). 
 
 Charles II. and Quakers, 322. 
 
 Charles V. and Lutlicr, 249, 250. 
 
 (Charles VI. .-ind dcniuic, 170. 
 
 Cliarlcs VIII. invades Italy {suction, 
 p. 220) ; and Savonarola. 227. 
 
 Charles IX. and the Carolinas, 34(). 
 
 Ciuirtreuse convent, 95, 105. 
 
 Chayla, Huguenot leader, 337. 
 
 Childhood of Jeanne d'Arc (section, 
 p. 170). 
 
 Children in catacombs, 42. 
 
 Children's work in heaven, 286, 
 287. 
 
 Chittore tower, 07. 
 
 Christian belief, catacombs (section, 
 p. 38.) 
 
 Christians called atheists, 12; per- 
 secutions of, 13. 
 
 Christ's description of his work 
 applied to Wesley's, 378. 
 
 Chrysostom, St., 141. 
 
 Church, Christian, beginnings, 2 ; 
 enlargement, 3; reform within, 
 254 ; underground, 3. 
 
 Churches in heaven, 287. 
 
 Church of leaven, 379 ; mustard- 
 seed, 379. 
 
 Cicero, burial, 7. 
 
 Cistercian monks, 95, 98. 
 
 (^iteaux abbey, 9G. 
 
 Clara, St., "seraphic mother," 112. 
 
 Clairvaux abbey, 95, 90 (section, 
 p. 157). 
 
 Classes ot Jesuits, 265. 
 
 Class-meetings (section, p. 304) ; ori- 
 gin of, 374. 
 
 Clay, Jesuit as, 205. 
 
 Claypole, Mrs., Cromwell's daugh- 
 ter, 314. 
 
 Clement XIV. and Jesuits, 209. 
 
 Coadjutor."*, Jesuit, 2G5. 
 
 Coligiiy, admiral, and America, 310. 
 
 Cond)c, Geo.. Buildliist ideas, 48. 
 
 romiiies, IMiilippe do, on Savona- 
 rola's sagacity, 240. 
 
 Comte on tlieology, 150. 
 
 Confession, Luther on, 250 ; prac- 
 tised by Wesley, 381. 
 
 Confraternities, burial, 9. 
 
392 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 Conflict of Anselm with King {sec- 
 tion, p. 149). 
 
 Conrad, German emperor, 164. 
 
 Conservatism and radicalism in 
 Wesley, 369. 
 
 Constantine, emperor, 12, 18, 44. 
 
 Contrast between Fox's mind and 
 soul, 318. 
 
 Convents begin (section, p. 92). 
 
 Conventual vows, Buddhist, 52, 58. 
 
 Conversion, compulsory, 334 ; of 
 Augustine {section, p. 131). 
 
 Copyists, Buddhist monks, 55. 
 
 Cordeliers, religious order, 110. 
 
 Cordova mosque, 67. 
 
 Corneille on heresy, 330. 
 
 Corpse, Jesuit as a, 265. 
 
 Correspondence, doctrine of, 286. 
 
 Council of Florence, 229. 
 
 Countries, Buddhist, 49, 58; Prot- 
 estant and Catholic contrasted, 
 273. 
 
 Court, Antoine, revives Protestant- 
 ism, 342. 
 
 Court of revision, Savonarola, 207. 
 
 Courts of love, 335. 
 
 Covenanters, Scotch, 13, 337. 
 
 Creative intelligence wanting in 
 Buddhism, 78. 
 
 Crimes always mistakes, 348 et srq. 
 
 Cromwell and Fox, 313; rescues 
 French Protestants, 344. 
 
 Cross, badge of infamy, 21. 
 
 Crusades, 143. 
 
 Crusade, second, led by Bernard 
 (section, p. 104). 
 
 Crusaders, 111 ; in Languedoc, 335. 
 
 Cullen, author and physician, 2. 
 
 Cuttuck temples, 69. 
 
 D. 
 
 Darjop, or pagoda, 70. 
 
 Daille, M., clergyman, 347. 
 
 Dalai-lama, or Buddhist pope, 50, 
 60. 
 
 Damasus, bishop, 139 ; inscriptions 
 of, 19. 
 
 Dancing, Buddhist, G4. 
 
 Danle the poet, 215, 224; his grand- 
 son rehabilitated, 229 ; on Sts. 
 Francis and Dominic, 101. 
 
 ]\anton, 208. 
 
 Dauphin, French, Jeanne, 177 et seq. 
 
 Davids, T. "W. Rhys, investigations, 
 46, 77, 480. 
 
 D. D., Doniinus Dens, catacombs, 41. 
 
 Death of Savonarola {section, p. 234). 
 
 Debt, theological, 155. 
 
 De Breaux, 208. 
 
 Decalogue, Buddhist, 64. 
 
 Defects of Buddhism {section, p. 75). 
 
 De Foe, 345. 
 
 " Degrees " of Swedenborg, 288. 
 
 Deists in France, 349. 
 
 Delhi, mosque, 67. 
 
 Deluge, Savonarola, 226. 
 
 Demons, Buddhist, 65. 
 
 Descartes, 153. 
 
 Descendants of Huguenots in Eng- 
 land, 345. 
 
 Devil and virginity, 178 ; imitates 
 Christianity, 59; Luther's opin- 
 ion of, 259. 
 
 " Dial " magazine, 295. 
 
 Diamond and Emerson, 291. 
 
 Didactic hymns, 385. 
 
 Diet of Worms {section, p 246). 
 
 Diocletian, emperor, 134. 
 
 Dionysius tlie Areopngite, 279. 
 
 Dissenters and Fox, 304 et seq. 
 
 Divinity, George Fox on, 307. 
 
 Divinity School in Ravines, 342. 
 
 Divodasa, Buddhist, 49. 
 
 D. M., Diis Manibus, 32. 
 
 Doctrinal hymns, 385. 
 
 Doctrine of Augustine {section, p. 
 136). 
 
 Doctrines in catacombs, 42 ; of Qua- 
 kers, 319, 320. 
 
 Documents, ancient, concerning 
 Jeanne, 168. 
 
 Doddridge's hymns, 384. 
 
 Domenico, Savonarola's friend, 233, 
 236. 
 
 Domingo, St., 101. 
 
 Dominican rnonks, 98. 
 
 Dominic, St. {section, p. 98). 
 
 Domitclla, Roman princess, 25, 32. 
 
 Dominique Gerroir, anecdote, 172. 
 
 Domitian, emperor, 10. 
 
 Domremy, Jeanne's birthplace, 171; 
 later history, 171. 
 
 " Don Carlos," Schiller, 182. 
 
 Dramas, Hindoo religious, 60. 
 
 Dryden, poetic quotation, 301. 
 
 Dualism in religion, 128. 
 
 Dubois, abbe', on Jesuits, 2G9. 
 
 Duns Scotus, 112, 153. 
 
INDKX. 
 
 303 
 
 Dunois, testimony to Jeanne, 181, 
 
 vote. 
 Diioino, Florence, 224. 
 Diijciiiloii]), bishop, 208. 
 Dusli-y-aiila, king, Ul. 
 
 E. 
 
 Kiirlv life of Lutlier {srrlion, p. 211). 
 Iv kliart, tlie mystic. 2.s0, 21»:]. 
 Kdict of Nantes {siciiun, p. •i2C)). 
 Kgyptian monks, H'). 
 Iiiii'fcuosseii, or " coiifeileratea," ;J2G. 
 Eisleben, Luther's iiome, o42, 361. 
 Eleventh century, character of 
 
 (section, p. 112). 
 Elizabeth, St., of Hungary, 117. 
 Ellora cave, 74. 
 Emerson on Thorean, 110. 
 Emerson, K. \V., 27<J {srclion, p. 201). 
 English generals and Jeanne, 170. 
 English Methodistn, .'170. 
 English mystics, Quakers, 209. 
 Epigraphs in catacombs {sectio)i, 
 
 p. 27). 
 Ep worth and Wesley, 352, 35G, 
 
 857, 381. 
 Erasmus and Luther, 250 ; his 
 
 doubts, 251 ; Luther on, 2G1. 
 Eremite, or hermit, 84. 
 Eri'.;ena, scholar, 121, 277. 
 I'.rt'urt university, 212. 
 Ermenberge, m(;ther of Anselm, 
 
 14.J. 
 Este family in Ferrara, 222. 
 Eucharist, Berenger on, 145. 
 Eugenius, pope, Bernard's letter 
 
 to, 252. 
 European changes from Jeanne 
 
 d'Arc to Savonarola (section, 
 
 p. 213). 
 Eusebius on lay -preaching, 360. 
 E.xile of Anselm (section, p. 14'J). 
 
 F. 
 
 Faber, Peter. 2G4. 
 
 Face of Buddiia, 54. 
 
 Faculties, four of Buddhist schools, 
 54. 
 
 FU-IIeen, Chinese traveller, G3. 
 
 " Failure of Protestantism " criti- 
 cised, 242. 
 
 Fairies, Jeanne, 173. 
 
 Faith-justification, its place, 383. 
 
 Faith, Wesley's definition, .'jGl. 
 Wesley on (stctiun, [). 35G). 
 
 Fakirs in India. 01. 
 
 Family of Luther. 243. 
 
 Faueuil. I'eter, 348. 
 
 Fasting, Fo.x on, IM. 
 
 Father Hue (section, p. 50). 
 
 Father of tieorge Fo.x, 313. 
 
 Faustus and Augustine, 130. 
 
 Feast of Flowers, Buddhist, 5.3. 
 
 Fenelon, bishop (stctiun, p. 282), 270; 
 against persecution, 331. 
 
 Fergusson on Hindoo temples, 08- 
 74. 
 
 Ferrara, Savonarola's birthplace, 
 221. 
 
 Feudalism (section, p. 157) ; new 
 definition. 158. 
 
 Ficino Marsilio, a Catholic Platon- 
 ist. 218. 
 
 Field-preaching (section, p. 3G4) ; 
 made needful, 3G4. 
 
 Fifteenth century wonders, 242. 
 
 Firmin, Unitarian, and Wesley, .'>03. 
 
 "Flint and gun," nanieanecdote, 
 348. 
 
 Florence, the beautiful city, 223. 
 
 Fontenelle, poem on " Kevocation 
 of Edict of Nante8," 330. 
 
 Fo, or Buddha, 57. 
 
 Forgiveness of sin, 243. 
 
 Formula of I^uddhistic novices, 64. 
 
 Founder of Quakerism (section, p. 
 301). 
 
 Fox, George (lecture X.), 281 ; char- 
 acter (section, p. 317) ; e.xperl- 
 ences (section, p. 301 ) ; influence 
 (section, p. 317) ; not interested 
 in great events of his age, 
 318. 
 
 France, condition in fifteenth cent- 
 ury (serfiun, p. 1(57) ; injured 
 by persecution of Huguenots, 
 340. 
 
 Francis, St. (section, p. 98) ; birth, 
 108; characteristics, 100; visit 
 to sultan, 1 11. 
 
 Franciscan monks, 98. 
 
 Fraticellians, 11 1. 
 
 Frederick the wise. 244. 
 
 Frederic of Saxony, 240, 250. 
 
 Free thought, jirinciplu of, 273. 
 
 Free-will, Luther on, 251. 
 
394 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 French academy and Huguenots, 
 
 330. 
 French generals, Jeanne d'Arc, 168. 
 Friars, begging, 111 ; rapid increase, 
 
 111, 
 Friendship, pagan, 35; Augustine 
 
 on, 130. 
 Friends, society of {lecture X.). 
 
 G. 
 
 Garrick, the actor, 345. 
 
 Gall, St., monastery, 93. 
 
 Gaunilo and Anselm, 153. 
 
 Gelu, archbishop, 179. 
 
 General of Jesuits, 265. 
 
 Gengis Khan, 102. 
 
 Gerson, scholastic doctor, 153. 
 
 Ghaut, India, 73. 
 
 Gibbon the historian, 12. 
 
 Gibson on Ambrose, 140. 
 
 Gill's hymns, 385. 
 
 " Glendower," Shakespeare quota- 
 tion, 200. 
 
 Gnostics, 128. 
 
 " Godly Club," Wesley's, 355. 
 
 God, nearness of, 297. 
 
 Goethe, 124. 
 
 Good Shepherd, catacombs, 40. 
 
 Gothic invasion, 140. 
 
 Gottheil, Dr., on Luther's Bible, 
 260. 
 
 Graves, adornment of, 16. 
 
 Great souls belong to church uni- 
 versal (section, p. 165). 
 
 Greek epigram, 271 ; literature, 
 214. 
 
 Grote as a hellenist, 219. 
 
 Grotius, Hugo, 154. 
 
 Guarini, Indians and Jesuits, 267. 
 
 Guatama, images, 67. 
 
 Guicciardini on Savonarola, 238, 
 239. 
 
 Guion, Mme., 276, (section, p. 282.) 
 
 Gaison-tarnba, or chief lama, 51. 
 
 Gustavus Adolphus, wars of, 251. 
 
 H. 
 
 ITalhead, Myles, Quaker, 321. 
 Hallani on friars, 100. 
 Hardy y^Spence, on Buddhism, 59, 
 63, 65, 80. 
 
 Harlots and Geo. Fox, 312. 
 
 Hats, wearing. Fox, 309. 
 
 Heaphy, picture of Christ, 25. 
 
 Heaven of Swedenborg, 285 ; Hin- 
 doo, 62. 
 
 Heber's hymns, 384. 
 
 Hegel the philosopher, 153, 282, 
 293. 
 
 Heine on Luther's Bible, 260. 
 
 Hell quenched, story, 282. 
 
 Hemans, C. J., on Kome, 39. 
 
 Henry VIIL, king, 119. 
 
 Herbert, George, 276. 
 
 Hereafter, Christian idea of, 36. 
 
 Herluin, Norman nobleman, 148, 
 144. 
 
 High Churchmen, the Wesleys, 381. 
 
 Higher law, 218. 
 
 Hilaire, St., on Buddha, 76, 77, 
 79. 
 
 Hikleshiem convent, 254. 
 
 Hildebrand, pope, 142, 145. 
 
 Hindoos and Jesuits, 268. 
 
 Hirzel, Dr., estimate of Jeanne 
 d'Arc, 209. 
 
 Historians on results of Huguenot 
 persecutions, 349. 
 
 History compared to subterranean 
 evolutions, 1 ; of Quakerism 
 (section, p. 32). 
 
 Hitchcock, general, a mystic, 276. 
 
 Hodgson's Sanskrit scriptures, 75. 
 
 Holland, Fox in, 317. 
 
 Homes, Buddhist, 56. 
 
 Horace, Latin poet, 2 ; on Lucilius, 
 applied to Chas. Wesley, 385. 
 
 Horses, paper, Buddhist, 55. 
 
 " Hortensius " of Cicero, 127. 
 
 Hospitality, Buddhist convent, 53. 
 
 Hour and Man, 255. 
 
 Huber, John and sons, naturalists, 
 332. 
 
 Hue, father, in Tartary, 51-58. 
 
 Huguenots (lecture XL). 
 
 Hugnon, 326. 
 
 Humanity, Buddliist, 76. 
 
 " Humble Bee," Emerson's, 292. 
 
 Humboldt, Alexander von, on 
 Basques, 262. 
 
 Huss, John, 115, 255. 
 
 Hutton, author, 2. 
 
 Hymns, 384 ; as biographic pic- 
 tures, 385 ; of Lorenzo de Med- 
 ici, 218 ; of Methodism (section, 
 p. 384). 
 
INDEX. 
 
 395 
 
 Ilypatia of Alexandria, 
 JJi/jKxjeum, catacombs, 0. 
 
 T. 
 
 Icarians, soot, 1 14. 
 
 Iconoclasiu of Florentine children, 
 
 2:V2. 
 Idolatry, Luther on, 247. 
 'IX^y's (iktiius, "fish") in cata- 
 combs, 42, 43. 
 Illuminalism, Loyola, 204. 
 Imitators of Emerson, 2'J3. 
 Impartial jud.i,Mnont needed, 241. 
 Incarnation, Huddlia, 57. 
 Independence in Emerson, 203. 
 Indian opinion of Christians, anec- 
 dote, 'A')S. 
 Indid, Hindoo {jod, 40. 
 Indulirences, intention of, 250; sale 
 
 of (fiction, p. 24t)). 
 Industry of French Protestants, 
 
 32cS'. 
 Influence of Aucfustine (section, 
 
 p. 139). 
 Inner litjht, Quakers, 318, (section, 
 
 p. 305)). 
 Innocent II. pope, 105. 
 Innocent III. and Langnodoc, 330. 
 Innocent VIII. ])apal sins, 223 ; his 
 
 children, 25^J. 
 Inquisition and Loyola, 264. 
 Inquisitors and Waldenses, 328; 
 
 and Jeanne d'Arc, 200. 
 Inscriptions in catacombs, 28-37 ; 
 
 burial {.•itrdon. p. 27) ; Latin, 41 ; 
 
 King Asoka's, (section, p. 01). 
 Inspiration and Satan, 104. 
 Intoxication, Huddhist dislike, 64. 
 "In vain sliall Kome," poem, 240. 
 Invocations of saints, 2ij0. 
 Itinerancy, Methodist (section, 
 
 p. 373) ; when essential, 373, 
 
 374. 
 
 J. 
 
 Jaina sect in India, 74. 
 
 Jain tower, 07. 
 
 Jeanne d'Arc (lecture VI.) ; armor, 
 200; convictions, 174; death, 
 lO'J; dilliculties, 176; execu- 
 
 tioner's remorse, 200; insults, 
 201 ; old documents, 168; por- 
 traits and statues, 20'J; pris- 
 oner sohl to Enj^lish, 100, (sec- 
 tion, p. 100) ; sources of inform- 
 ation (section,]}. 107); sources 
 of power, 207; trial, 101-108; 
 tributes to her virtue, 100.210- 
 212; victories, 184; "Voices," 
 200, 201. 
 
 Jerome, St., 83, 88, 139; visit to 
 catacombs, 10. 
 
 Jesuits (hctttre VIII.); and Chris- 
 tianity, 270. 
 
 Jesus a Jew, 250 ; at Nazareth, 308. 
 
 Jews, Luther's opinion of, 250; 
 protected by Bernard (srction, 
 p. 104). 
 
 John XX III., pope crimes, 253. 
 
 Jones, Sir William, Sanskrit scholar, 
 80. 
 
 Jowett, Prof., as a Hellenist, 219. 
 
 Julian the Apostate, 134. 
 
 Julius IL, pope, his offences, 253, 
 254 ; his impious praj'or, 248. 
 
 Justification by faith (section, p. 
 244); defined, 244; misunder- 
 stood, 245 et seq ; preached by 
 Paul, Augustine, Luther, Wes- 
 ley, 303. 
 
 Justin Martyr, 10. 
 
 Juvenal, the poet, on virtue, 34. 
 
 K. 
 
 Kant, the philosopher, on God, 153. 
 Karli ten)ple, 68, (50. 
 Karnac, temples, 07. 
 Karmn, or fate, 78, 80. 
 Knowled<,^e and inspiration, 141. 
 Knox, Robert, captive in Ceylon, 50. 
 Kounboum, Cliina, 52, 54. 
 Kouren, Buddhist convent, 51. 
 Kujiler, author, 25. 
 Kylas, or Kailasa, temple, 74. 
 
 " Lady Poverty " of St. Francis, 
 
 101, 100. 
 La Fontaine on heresy, 330. 
 
396 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 Lamb, Chas., on Quakers, 324. 
 
 Lamb, emblem, 25. 
 
 Lamas, or Buddhist monks, 50. 
 
 Lamaseries, or monasteries, 51. 
 
 Lanfranc, prior, 144, 145. 
 
 Language of heaven, 285. 
 
 Languedoc, its name, 336. 
 
 La Pucelle, 208. 
 
 Lassa, regent of, 51. 
 
 Latin manuscripts, 216. 
 
 Lauras, for monks, 88. 
 
 Laurens, Henry, 347. 
 
 Law, Wm., the mystic, 276. 
 
 " Law's Call," 282. 
 
 Lawyers, Fox on, 307. 
 
 Lay-preaching (section, p. 364) ; 
 
 how necessitated, 368 • in older 
 
 times, 369. 
 Laynez, Peter, 264. 
 Leather clothing of Fox, 312. 
 Lecky on raonasticism, 85, 92. 
 Lee, Ann, founds Shakerisra, 112; 
 
 imprisonment, 115. 
 Leo X. and Luther, 248. 
 Lessons of monasticism (section, 
 
 p. 117); of these lectures, 
 
 386. 
 Letter to the pope about Savona- 
 rola, 235. 
 Lihertas, 41. 
 
 Liberty and Protestantism, 274. 
 Lily of France, poem, 211. 
 Litchfield, Fox's denunciation, 311. 
 Liturgy, Buddhist, 54. 
 Livingstone the traveller, 117. 
 Lombard, Peter, 135. 
 London, Huguenots in, 334. 
 Lord's Prayer, Luther on, 262. 
 Lord's Supper, Luther on, 251 ; 
 
 Quaker rejection of, 300. 
 Loire, campaign of, Jeanne, 186. 
 Louis, St., king, 112. 
 Louis Xn., coins against Eome, 
 
 254. 
 Louis XIV. and Fenelon, 282; and 
 
 Huguenots, 330. 
 Loyola, Ignatius, 2, (lecture VIII.). 
 Lunenberg, duke and bishop of, 
 
 254. 
 Luther, Martin, 2, 105, (lecture 
 
 VIIL); and Calvin, both Au- 
 
 gustinians, 139; in heaven, 
 
 288. 
 Lyons, trade lost with Huguenots, 
 
 333. 
 
 M. 
 
 Macarius^'^t., 85. 
 
 Macaulaf on Jesuits, 266. 
 
 Madras temples, 69. 
 
 Mcujna Charta, 102. 
 
 Maha-wanso, Hindoo, 60. 
 
 Maitland, on catacombs, 21. 
 
 Malcolm, Rev. Howard, on Bur- 
 mah, 76. 
 
 Maniacs cured by Fox, 310. 
 
 Mammoth Cave, comparison, 44. 
 
 Manicheans, sect, 128. 
 
 Mani, his religion, 128. 
 
 INIanu, laws of, 89, 90, 275. 
 
 JNIarchi, padre, 21. 
 
 Mareotis, Jewish convent, 85. 
 
 Margaret of Cortona, 112. 
 
 Marie, St. de Vauverts, 102. 
 
 Mark, St., convent, 224. 
 
 Marlino, the hermit, 95. 
 
 Marion, American general, 347. 
 
 Marriage of Luther, 251. 
 
 Marrjat, captain, novelist, 345. 
 
 Martineaus, Jas. and Harriet, 345. 
 
 Martyrs, atonement by, 86 ; in cat- 
 acombs, 12, 13; their courage, 
 14; their enthusiasm, 15; rev- 
 erence for, 16. 
 
 Martyr-age in catacombs, 44. 
 
 Massillon and Huguenots, 330. 
 
 Materialism, Geo. Fox on, 306. 
 
 Mather, the Scotcli Methodist, 372 ; 
 at Wolverhampton, 375. 
 
 Maurice, Fred., on Quakerism, 
 324. 
 
 Maxfield, Thos., lay-preacher, 369. 
 
 Maya, Hindoo, 277. 
 
 May-tree and Jeanne d'Arc, 94. 
 
 Mazarin, cardinal, on Waldensian 
 loyalty, 328. 
 
 Medhurst on Chinese religion, 59. 
 
 Medici family, 217 et seq. 
 
 Medici, Lorenzo di, absolution re- 
 fused, 225. 
 
 Medici, Pictro di, 227. 
 
 Medicine, Buddhist, 54; Geo. Fox 
 on, 307. 
 
 " Meditations " of Savonarola, 237. 
 
 Melancthon and Luther, 261 ; 
 " Commonplace Book," 261. 
 
 Mendelssohn on Luther's German, 
 261. 
 
 Mendicant friars, 100; orders of 
 (section, p. 98). 
 
INDEX. 
 
 397 
 
 IVrerlts of HiuMliism {srdion, p. 75). 
 
 Merovinj^iiiu epoch, 120. 
 
 Metaphysics of Aiisehn (section, 
 p. 151). 
 
 Metempsychosis, 57. 
 
 Methodism (l>rlure Xll.); founded 
 by s(;h()hirs,o53; melhod.s (s)c- 
 tiun, p. o()l) ; spread of {section, 
 p. 377). 
 
 Methodists conipari'd to friars, 100. 
 
 Michael, St., Jeanne d'Arc, 173. 
 
 Mii'hel-An^'elo, HIS. 
 
 Michelet, historian, on .leanne, 180. 
 
 Military prowess of Jcainie, 1H!S. 
 
 Mihnan, the historian, HM ; on Do- 
 minican cruelty, 'j'M. 
 
 Milton, soiniot on Vaudois persecu- 
 tions, 345. 
 
 Ministerial functions, Fo.v, 303. 
 
 Mirandola, Pico di, the great 
 scholar, 210, 230. 
 
 Missionaries, Buddhist, 48; Jesuit, 
 205. 
 
 Mission of Jeanne {section, p. 175). 
 
 Mobs in Florence, 234. 
 
 Moehler, Catholic on Quakers, 223. 
 
 Monasteries among Buddhists {sec- 
 tion, p. 07). 
 
 Monasticisni {Icrtures III. and IV.) ; 
 amonix Hindoos {srclinn, ]>. 80) ; 
 among Buddhists {stction, p. 
 03) ; begins {strtion, j). 84) ; de- 
 stroyed by I'rotistantism, 115; 
 suppression of, 118-122; ten- 
 dency among Protestants {sec- 
 tion, p. 112). 
 
 Monograms in catacombs {section, 
 p. 21). 
 
 Monolithic temples, 68, G9, 74. 
 
 Monns, or solitary, 84. 
 
 Monotheism, early, in catacombs, 
 42. 
 
 Montalembert on Monasticism, 83, 
 120. 
 
 Montbelon, baron of, 232. 
 
 Montes(}uieu, author, 2. 
 
 Montgomery's hymns, 385. 
 
 Montrevel, marshal, and Cami- 
 sards, 341. 
 
 Morals of Luther, Catholic idea, 
 255. 
 
 Moravian preacher, 357. 
 
 Moravians, establi.-^hment and mis- 
 sions, 112, (siction, ]). 350). 
 
 More, Henry, author, 270. 
 
 Mosaic books, Lutlicr on, 2G2. 
 
 Mouhnein, Burmah, pagodas, GO. 
 
 Mummies, Kgyptian, 3; (Jliddon's 
 mistake al>out a princess, 3. 
 
 Municipal government of Savona- 
 rola, 220. 
 
 Munster Anabaptists, 251. 
 
 Mysore, India, 200. 
 
 Mysticism {Urlnrr IX.). 
 
 MuUer, Max, on Buddhism, 40. 
 
 N. 
 
 Names, French, translated, 348. 
 Nardi, the historian, on Savonarola, 
 
 235. 
 Nati<jns, Protestant and Catholic, 
 
 compared, 271. 
 Nco-]i/(itonists, 21ij, 270. 
 Nepaul, city, 40, 75, 70. 
 Neri, St. Philip, 05, 202. 
 Nero, emperor, 12. 
 Neufchateau, French village, 171. 
 New York Huguenots, 340. 
 Nicholas of Basel, mystic, 281. 
 Nicknames of Huguenots, 320; of 
 
 Methoilists. 354. 
 Niruamt, Hindoo, 47, 58, 70, 80; 
 
 during this life, 80. 
 Nitron, desert, monks of, 88. 
 Noah's Ark, Savonarola's sermon, 
 
 226. 
 Nobili, Robert de, missionary, 268. 
 Nobility, French and Jeanne, 17H. 
 "Noble Lesson," Waldensian book, 
 
 327. 
 Nominalism and realism, 215. 
 Nordhoff on separatist societies, 114. 
 Northcote on catacombs, 2, 34, 38 ; 
 
 on Trinity, 40, 43. 
 Novalis, the philosoplier, 276. 
 Novices, daily life of Buddhist, 64 ; 
 
 Jesuit, 205. 
 Nuns resist a bishop, 254. 
 Nidic (liiiiiliis, the. quoted against 
 
 Huguenots, 330. 
 
 O. 
 
 O.Ttbs, O. Fox refuses, 315 et seq. 
 Obedience of Jesuits. 204. 
 Obscrvaiits, onler of monks. 111. 
 Occam, the Iheolou'ian, 153. 
 
398 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 Ocean-preaching, Wesley, 366. 
 
 Old age of Wesley, 377. 
 
 Olivers, Thos., Methodist, 372. 
 
 Oneida Perfectionists, 114. 
 
 Opposition to Jesuits, 270 ; to Meth- 
 odism {section, p. 375), 
 
 Orange, William of, gets English 
 throne by Huguenot help, 334. 
 
 Oratory of Jesus, religious order, 
 272. 
 
 Order in religion, Wesley, 366. 
 
 Orders of Buddhist monks, 58. 
 
 Ordinances outgrown by Wesley, 
 366. 
 
 Organization and conviction, 272. 
 
 Original sin, Augustine on, 138. 
 
 Orleans, French city, 178 ct seq. 
 
 "Orphic Sayings," Alcott, 295. 
 
 Osborne, the monk, 147. 
 
 Oude, kingdom of, 46. 
 
 Outline of this book (section, p. 1). 
 
 " Over-soul," Emerson, 293. 
 
 Oxford and religion, 355 ; Wesley 
 at {section, p. 351). 
 
 P. 
 
 Pagan epitaphs, 33. 
 
 Pagodas in Kandy, 59. 
 
 Paley, arclideacon, on clerical im- 
 morality, 380. 
 
 Pampeluna, Loyola at, 262. 
 
 Pantheism in Emerson, 294; Hin- 
 doo, 277. 
 
 Pantheon, 67. 
 
 Paracelsus, 277, 283. 
 
 Paraguay, Jesuits in, 267. 
 
 Parents of Fox, 301. 
 
 Pascal, Lettres Provinciales, 270. 
 
 Pastoral monks, 52. 
 
 Patriotic sacrifices, 103. 
 
 Paul, St., teachings applied to Bud- 
 dhism, 81; his "third heaven," 
 285; at Virgil's tomb, 215; 
 pawner's bank, Florence, 229 ; 
 Peasant wars, 251. 
 
 " Peas, boiled," story, 56. 
 
 Peers, English, descended from Hu- 
 guenots, 345. 
 
 Pelagius and Wesley, 563. 
 
 Penn, Wm., 318, {section, p. 319). 
 
 People in heaven, Swedenborg,289. 
 
 Perfection, doctrine, 362, 364. 
 
 Periods, 5, of catacombs, 43, 44. 
 
 Perret, M., on catacombs, 21. 
 
 Persecution desirable, 87 ; of Meth 
 odists, 372. 
 
 Perugia, city, 108. 
 
 Peruvian bark discovered, 267. 
 
 Peter of Ailly on church reform, 
 253. 
 
 Peter, St., in catacombs, 38. 
 
 Petrarch the poet, 215. 
 
 Philae, or cloisters, 85. 
 
 Piagnoni, or "cry-babies," 231. 
 
 Pictures in catacombs {section, 
 p. 21). 
 
 Pierpont's hymns, 384. 
 
 Pilgrims in catacombs, 43. 
 
 Pio Nono, pope, 208 ; concordat of, 
 119. 
 
 Place de la Pucelle, poem, 211. 
 
 Plato and Augustine (section, p. 131). 
 
 Plotinus the mystic, 278, 279, 293. 
 
 Plumbata, or scourge, 39. 
 
 Poem on Jeanne d'Arc, by Maria 
 Lowell, 211. 
 
 Poggio the bibliophilist, 216 et seq. 
 
 Policy and truth, illustrated in 
 Luther and Loyola, 273. 
 
 Poliziano the scholar, 220. 
 
 Polycarp, death, 10. 
 
 Pompeii, buried city, 3. 
 
 Porcelain pagoda, 67. 
 
 Porphyry the mystic, 279. 
 
 Power and aim, the two halves of 
 human felicity, 377. 
 
 Practice is knowledge — Savona- 
 rola, 225. 
 
 Prayer of Luther, 258, 260 ; of pope 
 Julius, 248 ; public vocal Bud- 
 dhist, 58. 
 
 Prayer-books, Buddhist, 55. 
 
 Prayer-mills, Buddhist, 56. 
 
 Prayers of Jeanne d'Arc, 172 ; for 
 the dead, 31. 
 
 Preachers of Methodism (section, 
 p. 375). 
 
 Predestination, Calvin teaches in 
 heaven, 288. 
 
 Present salvation, 382. 
 
 Priests, vagabond Buddhist, 51. 
 
 Primitive Christianity, not monas- 
 tic, (section, p. 82). 
 
 Prinsep on Buddhist inscriptions, 
 71. 
 
 Proclus the mystic, 279. 
 
 "Professed" Jesuits, 265. 
 
INDEX. 
 
 309 
 
 Promethean fire, metaphor, 141. 
 
 Promises, Jesuit, 2(10. 
 
 Prote.stantisin "exchided " and " in- 
 cluded," 25:>; in Southern 
 France {section, p. .■3;J5) ; of Asia, 
 54; monastic tendiiKy in, 112. 
 
 Protestants before Luther, 2lo. 
 
 I'rovincials, .lesuit, 205. 
 
 I'rudence for Providence, 78. 
 
 Prudentius on catacomhs, 13 ; on 
 tombs, lU. 
 
 Psahiis of David. 74. 
 
 I'toleiiiy, monk's letter to, 85. 
 
 Purgatory in catacombs, 37 ; Luther 
 on, 250. 
 
 Q. 
 
 Quakers, 12, {lecture X.) ; impris- 
 oned, 315 et seq. ; Sweden- 
 borg's dislike, 281). 
 
 Quicherat, Jules, on Jeanne d'Arc, 
 
 107. 
 
 R. 
 
 Rabia. Persian mystic, poetic legend, 
 
 278 
 
 Rachettc, Rnoul, 21. 
 
 liadclifU', Mrs., novelist, 345. 
 
 Itailegund, wife of Clotaire, 120. 
 
 Rangoon pagoda, 67. 
 
 liansom, tlieological, 155. 
 
 Ranters, sect, and G. Fox, 312. 
 
 Rapp, founder of " Economy " com- 
 munity, 113. 
 
 Rappists, sect, 114. 
 
 Rationalism, mystic, 287. 
 
 Rebukis of Bernard {section, p. IGO). 
 
 Recantation of Savonarola, 238. 
 
 Reiolleets, order of monks. 111. 
 
 Reformation, Catholic opinion of, 
 252; outruns Luther, 250. 
 
 Reformers before Luther, 23l>. 
 
 Refuge ill catacombs, 44. 
 
 Reigu of Terror, 340. 
 
 Reims, city, Jeanne, 180 et saj. 
 
 Relic-box, Buddhist, 61. 
 
 Relics, I^uther on, 250. 
 
 Ju/it/io livita in Rome, 10. 
 
 Religion of Sakya-Muni {section, p. 
 4(5). 
 
 " Religious " wars in Germany, 251. 
 
 Rcmusat on Anselm, 155. 
 
 Reseml)lance8 between Buddhism 
 and Kdinanism (stdion, p. 51»). 
 
 Itenaissance in Kurope (lecture 
 VII. ; section, p. 213). 
 
 Republic of Klorence, 232. 
 
 Revocation of Ldict of Nantes {sec- 
 tion p. 830). 
 
 Ricci, Jesuit general, 200. 
 
 Kobes, Buddhist sHcred, 54. 
 
 Robinson, archbisliop, dialogue 
 with Wesley, 370. 
 
 Rock-cut temples {section, p. 67). 
 
 Rodolph, Monte, 1(»4. 
 
 llonia Sutl(riinea, 20, 32. 
 
 Rome, Luther's visit, 248; taken by 
 Alaric, 20. 
 
 Rosaries and Jeanne, 102. 
 
 Rossi, l)e, 2 ; inscriptions in cata- 
 combs, 27, 28, 32. 
 
 Rouen, city, 213. 
 
 Rousseau, 125. 
 
 "Ruin of Church," poem by Sa- 
 vonarola, 222. 
 
 "Ruin of World," ditto. 
 
 " Rule" of Augustine, 120. 
 
 S. 
 
 Sabellians, sect, 137. 
 
 Sabinus, St., 86. 
 
 Sacraments in catacombs, 40 ; 
 seven, Luther on, 250 ; Wes- 
 ley's first view, .381. 
 
 Sacramental salvation, 245. 
 
 Safe-conduct lor Jerome and lluss. 
 249. 
 
 Saints of Middle Ages, 276. 
 
 Saint-worship towards Savonarola, 
 230. 
 
 Sakya-Muni, birth, 46. 
 
 Sales, St. Francis de, 272. 
 
 Salvation not justification, 244. 
 
 Salvati(m by iaith, 3r)l ; by justifi- 
 cation, 244 ; by legal sacrifices, 
 245; by morality, 215. 
 
 Sankara, Hindoo ])hilosopher, 277. 
 
 Sii)ik-hija-l\itriktt, 275, 277. 
 
 Satire, poetic on church, 368. 
 
 Savonarola {lecture VII.), 2, 253; 
 and Bernard, 221 ; early life 
 {seeiiiin, j). 221 ) ; failures, 255 ; 
 forbidden to preach (.st>t7/t»/j, 
 
400 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 p. 239) ; imprisoned {section, 
 p. 233) ; opposition {section, 
 J). 230) ; ordeal {section, p. 283) ; 
 sermons {section, p. 221). 
 
 Sclielling, 282. 
 
 Schiller's " Maid of Orleans," 170. 
 
 Scliolastic Jesuits, 205. 
 
 Science in catacombs, 44 ; of Swe- 
 denborg, 289. 
 
 Secret of Methodism, 363. 
 
 Self-distrust, Jeanne d'Arc and 
 Luther, 260. 
 
 Self- mortification in religion, 138. 
 
 Self-reliance and God-reliance, 293. 
 
 Series of gods, 78. 
 
 Seringapatam, Hindoo apostates, 
 269. 
 
 Sermons of Luther, 247 ; of Savon- 
 arola, 230 ; curious specimen, 
 225. 
 
 Servus, a slave, 41. 
 
 Sems, archbishop of, 161. 
 
 Sevigne, Mme. de, on dragoon con- 
 versions, 334; Huguenots, 330. 
 
 Sewall on Geo. Fox, 304, 317. 
 
 Shakers, sect, 114 ; chief of Protes- 
 tant celibates, 113. 
 
 Shaving, Buddhist, 63, 64. 
 
 Siddartha, Buddhist, 47. 
 
 Siege of Orleans {section, p. 179). 
 
 Signatures of Jeanne d'Arc, 172. 
 
 Sigourney, Andrew, 348. 
 
 Silence, Buddhist, 53. 
 
 Simon, St., 117. 
 
 Simon Stylites, 86; outgrown, 91. 
 
 Simplicianus, Christian teacher, 
 132. 
 
 Sites of Buddhist monasteries, 52. 
 
 Sixtus IV. and Florence, 254 ; pa- 
 pal children, 223. 
 
 Smith, Adam, 2. 
 
 Sociability in religion, 82, 83. 
 
 Solitude in religion, 82. 
 
 Solomon's magic, 283. 
 
 Souls of women. Fox on, 303. 
 
 Soul, power over body, 15-17. 
 
 South America, Jesuits in, 267, 269. 
 
 Sovereignt}'^ of God, 138. 
 
 Spencer, Herbert, anticipated by 
 Buddhism, 81. 
 
 Spenser, poetic quotation, 73. 
 
 Spinoza, 151, 282. 
 
 Spirit of Buddhism {section, p. 75). 
 
 "Spiritual Exercises" of Loyola, 
 264. 
 
 Spirituality of Brahmanism, 78. 
 
 Spiritual naturalism, 291. 
 
 Ssufis, Persian sect, 275-277, 293. 
 
 " Staff," Jesuit comparison, 265. 
 
 Stake, Savonarola at, 238. 
 
 Stars and clouds, Luther on, 258. 
 
 Staupitz, Luther's friend, 244. 
 
 " Steeple-houses," G. Fox, 309. 
 
 Stigand, archbishop, 145. 
 
 Stoning of George Fox, 312. 
 
 Stories, absurd, about Wesley, 375. 
 
 Strength of Luther, 257. 
 
 Study, letter on ministerial need of, 
 Wesley, 371. 
 
 Stupas or topes, Buddhist, 60. 
 
 Subhadda, the last disciple of Bud- 
 dha, 80. 
 
 Subiaco and St. Benedict, 93. 
 
 Superstition about Jeanne d'Arc, 
 188. 
 
 Suso, the mystic, 281. 
 
 Swedenborg {section, p. 282). 
 
 Switzerland, Huguenots in, 333. 
 
 Symbols of Christ, 25-27, 38-40. 
 
 " Table-talk " of Luther, 260. 
 
 Tacitus on Christianity, 12. 
 
 " Take up and read," revelation to 
 
 Augustine, 243. 
 Talks with spirits, recorded by 
 
 Sw^edenborg, 286^ 
 Tanjore pagoda, 67. 
 Tartary, monks of, 50. 
 Tauler, the mystic, 275, 281, 293. 
 Teachers, Jesuits as, 266. 
 Tea-parties, Buddhist religious, 55. 
 Tennyson on mysticism, poem, 298. 
 Teresa, St., 272. 
 Tertullian, catacombs, 14, 15. 
 Tetzel, the seller of indulgences, 
 
 247, 248. 
 Thaumaturgists {section, p. 282). 
 Thaumaturgy, 277. 
 Theological schools and Fox, 314. 
 Theology in catacombs, 40-45; of 
 
 Anselni {section, p. 151); of 
 
 Augustine to-day, 138, 142. 
 Thibetian monks, 50. 
 Thierry on St. Radegund, 120. 
 Thirteenth century, events of, 102. 
 Thoreau, Henry, the naturalist, 116. 
 
INDEX. 
 
 4Ul 
 
 Thorpe, Jolin, tlie Methodist, 072. 
 
 'i'lireefohl tbrimihi, liudJhist, 01. 
 
 Tilly, wars of, 2ol. 
 
 Tipplinj; and CJeorpe Fox, 302. 
 
 Tippoo Sahib, prime, 2(51>. 
 
 Tobacco, Fox on, 302. 
 
 Tolerance of Wesley, 302. 
 
 Tombs, number in catacombs, o8. 
 
 Topes, Indian, )'>S. 
 
 Tortures of Savonjirola, 2;j7. 
 
 Traticdy of lite. 211. 
 
 Trajan, emperor. 10. 
 
 Transition peri"o<l in Ital}', 221. 
 
 Transcendental utterances. 2'.t5. 
 
 Translation, Luther's IJible, 2G0, 
 2(J1. 
 
 Transubstantiaiion, Fox on, 314; 
 Luther on. 2-")0. 
 
 Tree and fruits, liuddhist, 48. 
 
 "Tremblers," or (^ujikers, 311, 
 
 Trench, archbisiiop, o4-">. 
 
 Trinity, a mystery, 137 ; in cata- 
 eonjbs, 40, 41; Loyola sees, 
 204. 
 
 Tripilikd, or triple-basket, 48. 
 
 Tritheists and Trinitarians. 1^>1. 
 
 Triumphal arcl), Constantine's in- 
 scription, 18. 
 
 Troubadours in Lanjruedoc, o05. 
 
 Troy. Schliemann's discoveries, 4. 
 
 Troves. French city, 180. 
 
 Truth like seed, :37'8. 
 
 Tiiiiiitliis. stiijxi, (ir mound. 70. 
 
 Types, Luther and Loyola, 272. 
 
 u. 
 
 Umbrellas in worship, 06 ; in stone, 
 
 Underixround railroad. Huguenot 
 
 C(Mnparison, •>>2. 
 Universe nnsujiported, Luther's 
 
 vision, 258. 
 Ursuline nuns, 272. 
 
 V. 
 
 Vnlerian. emperor, 1o. 
 Vatican, relics of catacombs, 28. 
 Vaucoulers. town. Jeanne. 177. 
 T' </<(;./«/, Hindoo, 277. 
 
 ]'f(liix, Hindoo. -10, 71. 
 
 V'enantius, Fortunatus, troul)adour, 
 
 120. 
 Very, Jones, 270, {section, n. 2U1); 
 
 sonnet, 2'.I0. 
 Victor, Hugo, the scholastic, 280. 
 Victoria, queen, descended from 
 
 Huguenots. 340. 
 VUuii-d, or Huddhist monastery, 05, 
 
 71. 
 Villari on Savonarola, 228. 
 Villars, nuirshal. and C'amisards, 
 
 341. 
 Vincent de Paul, order of, 272. 
 Vinclantl. town, 1 14. 
 Virgil a Christian. 215. 
 Virgin Mary ami llilili-brand. 145; 
 
 in catacombs. 27, 30; defendi'd 
 
 by I..oyola, 203 ; Loyola's vis- 
 ion, 204. 
 Vischnu, 49. 
 Vi.sigoths, 140. 
 Visions of Jeanne (spction, p. 170); 
 
 Swedenborg, 2b3. 
 Visitants, ordi-r of, 272. 
 "Voices" of Jeanne, 180. 
 Voltaire, 2 ; and case of Calas, 343. 
 Vows of Buddhist moid<s, 01, 00; 
 
 Christian ascetics, 'J3, 
 
 W. 
 
 Waldenses, sect, 320. 
 
 Waldo, Peter, 320. 
 
 Wallenstein. wars of, 251. 
 
 Wallon on Joan of Arc, 1G8, 187. 
 
 Walsh, Thos.. Irish Methodist, 376. 
 
 Wandering Jew, 51. 
 
 War a negative good, 100. 
 
 Wartburg castle, Luther at, 250. 
 
 Warwick, earl, lUO. 
 
 Watts's hymns, 385. 
 
 Weduesbiiry, Wesley's courage. 375. 
 
 Weslev, Charles, conversion, 35U. 
 
 Wesley, John, 2. (Icrtnrc XII.); 
 creator of souls, 378 ; change 
 from ritualism (sertiou, p. 380) ; 
 inrtuence (section, p. 377; ; new 
 system (sreiion, p. 301); par- 
 ents {section, p. 351). 
 
 Whitefield in Anierica, 358. 
 
 Whittier. .323; poem on Quaker 
 Meeting, 325.