>Y^IE«¥MMEI&SflTrY- DIVINITY SCHOOL TROWBRIDGE LIBRARY TLcn Epochs of Church Ibistor^ JE&tteD bs 3obn ifulton, 2).®., %&.©. n)of. ix. Ten Epochs of Church History edited by JOHN FULTON, D.D., LL.D. A series of hand-books, giving a popular, comprehensive and authoritative church history. Price, $2.00 each, net. Arrangement of Volumes 1. The Apostolic Age. By J. Vernon Bartlet, M.A. 2. The Post-Apostolic Age. By Lucius Waterman, D.D., with an introduction by Rt. Rev. H. C. Potter, D.D., LL.D. 3. The Ecumenical Councils. By Prof. W. P. Du Bose, with an introduction by Rt. Rev. T. F. Gailor, D.D. 4. The Age of Charlemagne. By Prof. Charles L. Wells, Ph.D. 5. The Age of Hildebrand. By Prof. Marvin R. Vincent, D.D. 6. The Age of the Crusades. By J. M. Ludlow, D.D. 7. The Age of the Renaissance. By Paul van Dyke, with an introduction by • Henry van Dyke, D.D. 8. The Age of the Great Western Schism. By Clinton Locke, D.D. 9. The Reformation. By Prof. Williston Walker, Ph.D., D.D. to. The Anglican Reformation. By Prof. William Clark, M.A., LL.D., D.C.L. £e»t (Epochs of CQtxtcfy fjigfors THE REFORMATION BY WILLISTON WALKER IRew 33orft Cbarles Scribner'0 Sons I0O2 Copyright, 1900, by Charles Scribner's Sons THE CAXTON PRESS NEW YORK, PREFATORY NOTE. |N preparing a brief sketch of so gigantic a movement as that known as the Ref ormation, the main task is necessarily that of omission. Persons and facts of significance crowd upon the historian's attention. But as a selection is imperative, the writer has chosen to treat with relative fulness the initial and formative stages of the Reformation movement and the work of its few preeminent leaders. He has therefore sketched but cursorily the political struggles of the later Reformation age. Those conflicts belong, indeed, to the most pictur esque episodes of European history ; but they added little to the thoughts and principles which the Reformation represented. They answered the question, how far should the sway of those princi ples extend. The plan of this series of volumes provides for a separate treatment of the Anglican Reformation. Hartford, Conn. September I, 1900. CONTENTS. CHAP. I. — The New Wine in the Old Bottles. — The Reformation Long Prepared. — Decline of the Papacy. — Growth of Christian Life. — The New National Life, France, England, Spain, Italy, Germany. — Decline of Scholasticism. — The New Learning. — Its Theory of Re form. — The New Geography. — Reform by Councils Tried. * — Marsilius of Padua. — William of Occam. — Wiclif. — Huss. — The Mystics. — The Anti-Roman Sects. — The New Spirit of Individualism. — A Reformation Inevitable I CHAP. II. — The Spanish Awakening. — Reform Sought by Governmental Action. — The Spanish Religious Character. — Ferdinand and Isabella. — Ximenes. — Theological Learn ing. — The Inquisition. — Influence of the Spanish Awaken ing 53 CHAP. III.— The Saxon Revolt.— State of Germany.— Its Divisions of Opinion. — Reuchlin. — Luther's Character. — Early Life. — The Great Question. — Luther a Monk. — Justification by Faith Alone. — Luther a Teacher. — In dulgences. — The Ninety-five Theses. — Germany Stirred. — Philip Melanchthon. — The Leipzig Disputation. — The Great Tracts of 1520. — The Pope's Bull Burned. — Worms. — Lu ther in Retirement. — Wittenberg in his Absence. — Luther's Forceful Return. — Spread of Lutheranism. — The Peasants' War. — Breach with Erasmus. — Luther's Marriage. — Organ ization of the Lutheran Churches. — The Political Situation. — The Name, Protestant. — Protestantism Divided 71 CHAP. IV. — The Revolt in German Switzerland. — Con dition of Switzerland. — Zwingli's Early Life. — His Spiritual vi Con-tents. PAGE Development. — The Reformation of Zurich. — Anabaptists Persecuted. — Berne and Basel Revolt from Rome. — Martin Bucer. — Zwingli's Theology. — Christ's Presence in the Supper. — Saxon and Swiss Reformers Divided. — Colloquy at Marburg. — Zwingli's Far-reaching Plans. — Civil War in Switzerland. — Zwingli's Death 147 CHAP. V. — The Lutheran Churches of Germany. — Changed Character of the Lutheran Revolt. — The Augs burg Confession. — -The Schmalkaldic League. — Political Situation Favors the Protestants. — The Nuremberg Truce. — Spread of Lutheranism. — Growth of Catholic Opposition. — The Frankfort Suspension. — Reunion Efforts. — Philip's Bigamy. — The Emperor's Plans. — Luther's Death. — Moritz of Saxony. — Collapse of the Schmalkaldic League. — The Interims. — The Protestant coup d'e'tat. — Failure of the Emperor. — Lutheranism Wins Equal Rights. — The Peace of Augsburg. — Internal Quarrels of the Lutherans. — Me- lanchthon's Views. — His Last Days. — The " Rage of the Theologians." — Disastrous Effects of these Disputes 181 CHAP. VI.— Calvin and his Work.— Condition of France. — Reformation Enters Through the New Learning. — Le F£vre of Etaples. — Governmental Hostility. — French Switz erland, Farel, Viret and Froment. — State of Geneva. — It Revolts from Rome.— Calvin's Early Life and Education.— Conversion to Protestantism. — The Institutes. — Calvin's Theology. — Discipline. — Calvin at Geneva. — Banishment. — In Strassburg. — His Return and Rule. — The Genevan Constitution. — Contests. — Castellio, Bolsec and Servetus. — Calvin's Work.— Spread of His Views.— Death.— Theodore Beza 225 CHAP. VII. — The Protestant Movement Carried to Other Countries.— Condition of Scandinavia.— Sweden Becomes Lutheran. — Denmark, Norway and Iceland Lu theran.— The Reformation in Poland. — Hungary and Transylvania.— Liberal Stirrings in Spain.— The Religious Revival of Italy.— Caraffa and Contarini.— The Spanish Type of Reformation Victorious. —The Italian Anti-Trini tarians. — Socinianism. — The Netherlands. — England. — Condition of Scotland. — Protestant Beginnings. — John Contents. vii PAGE Knox. — The Scottish Revolt from Rome. — Queen Mary. — Knox's Work , 277 CHAP. VIII. — The More Radical Reformers. — Luther, Zwingli and Calvin seem to some but half-way Reformers. — Genesis of the Radical Movements. — The Anabaptists. — Their Beliefs. — Their Wide Spread. — Persecution. — The Majority Orderly. — A Fanatic Element. — Hofmann. — The Munster Tragedy. — Menno Simons Restores the Anabaptist Movement. — Franck. — Schwenckfeld. — The Spirituels. ¦ — The Family of Love. — Value of these Radical Movements 335 CHAP. IX. — The Counter-Reformation. — Reform in the Roman Church. — Aims of the Counter-Reformation. — It Gains Control of the Papacy. — Theology Revived. — New Orders and Congregations. — Awakened Spiritual Life. — Ignatius Loyola. — The Society of Jesus. — Its Character. — Spread. — Schools. — Missions. — Xavier. — The Council of' Trent. — Its Theology. — Support Given by Catholic Sover eigns. — The Roman Church Renews its Strength 356 CHAP. X. — The Struggle for Mastery. — The Changed Political Situation of 1559. — Protestantism in Peril. — The Early Huguenot Struggles in France. — The Revolt of the Netherlands. — William of Orange. — Massacre of St. Barthol omew. — The War in the Netherlands. — Further Huguenot Struggles. — Attitude of Elizabeth. — The Great Armada. — Henry IV. Reverses the Policy of France. — The Edict of Nantes. — Failure of Philip II. — The Situation in Germany. — The Thirty Years' War. — Bohemian Protestantism Crushed. — Wallenstein. — Foreign Intervention. — Gustavus Adol- phus. — Richelieu. — Germany Exhausted. — The Peace of Westphalia. — The Lines Permanently Drawn.— The Ref ormation in Retrospect 4°3 CHAPTER I. THE NEW WINE IN THE OLD BOTTLES. jlREAT events are not without long ante cedent causes. However unheralded they may appear to contemporary ob servers, in the retrospect they are seen to have been due in large part to changes in knowledge, social conditions or opinions extending over a protracted sequence of years. This fact, observable regarding the epochal move ments of history in general, is in a special degree characteristic of the momentous revolution in thought which bears the name of the Reformation. Yet, as in individual lives, even those of the greatest of men, it is difficult to distinguish what is due to environment and the atmosphere of the age from what is the result of forceful personality, so in the story of a movement as characterized by moulding leadership as the Reformation it is impossible to weigh and define the exact proportions assignable to the results of the slow growth of centuries and to the influence of leaders marked by as conspicuous individuality and powerful impress as any age of the world has enjoyed. The Reformation is inconceiv able, in the form which it took, without the men The Reformation. who loom as heroic figures in its drama ; but the men of the Reformation could not have done their work had it not been for the long preparation of the peoples of Europe for the crisis in which they were to be the guiding spirits. With all their strength and originality, they were, nevertheless, themselves the best embodiment of the results of that prep aration. The Reformation itself was, moreover, not the beginning but the culminating stage of a great movement, of which the new political life of Europe, the unlocking of strange continents, and the re vival of learning were all equally parts. Religious reform was not the blossoming but the fruitage of a general unfettering of the human mind. But as the mediaeval social system attained its highest per fection in the mediaeval Church, so the break with medievalism reached its intensest point of contest in the rejection of the limitations which mediaeval ecclesiastical authority had imposed ; and hence the Reformation is the crowning episode in that strug gle for freedom of thought which preceded the struggle for freedom in political action, and which, however imperfectly fought out, was the great con tribution of the fifteenth, sixteenth and seventeenth centuries to human progress. The mediaeval theory of Christian society was simple, however confused the actual social state. The visible unity of the civilized world was a thought inherited from the Roman empire ; and, to the mediaeval mind, inclined to reflect only in the concrete, one_which found its expression in the The Medieval Ideal. subjection of Christendom in its spiritual interests to a single Church, of which the papacy was the divinely established head, and in its temporal con cerns to civil authority — an authority having its highest, though not its only, representative in the supposed successor to the Caesars, the occupant of the throne of the Holy Roman Empire. Both were in harmonious interplay, having as their aim the temporal and eternal welfare of every inhabitant of Christendom ; but as the spiritual outweighs in im portance the earthly and the temporal, so the Church is superior in its claims and authority — the great churchmen of the middle ages insisted — to the State. These are ideals of no small grandeur. The Church to which so high a function was ascribed was a gigantic corporation whose existence was maintained by sacraments administered by a di vinely empowered hierarchy in communion with a visible head. All inhabitants of Christendom were initiated by it through baptism into the Kingdom of God, of which it was the earthly embodiment ; in communion with it salvation was alone possible, and that communion was only to be maintained by par ticipation in its sacraments, confession to its priests, and obedience to its commands. It alone joined in marriage, it alone gave honorable burial, its courts alone administered the bequests of the departed. It exacted conformity to its dogmas as to the sole pos sible exposition of truth ;• and not only drove active dissenters out of reputable association with their fellow-men, but handed them over to punishments of The Reformation. the utmost severity, inflicted, indeed, in their ex- tremer forms by civil authority, but at the instance of the Church. It taxed all Christendom with tithes and fees ; it limited industry by multiplied holidays ; it separated a large portion of the community from the helpful examples, companionships and restraints of married life. It laid its hand on men in their education, their reading, their amusements, their business. It touched them in all their relations, not merely in this life, but in the purgatorial sufferings of the world to come, and professed even to open or close the door of heaven itself. By its sacramental system, its celibate priesthood, and its theory of hierarchical authority, it made the ordinary lay Christian wholly dependent upon the clergy for the initiation, the upbuilding and the happy fruition of his spiritual life. It spoke with absolute authority, and its condition of salvation was essentially obe dience to its teaching and its officers, who by divine appointment, as Hildebrand told William the Con queror, were to answer for its members before the tribunal of God's judgment. To its authoritative priesthood all owed fidelity ; and it, in turn, assured all obedient sons of eternal felicity. Nor were these conceptions of the nature and power of the Church without their great value as an educative force. The mediaeval Church, by its uniformity, its discipline, and its corporate mould ing power, did a work for the crude social life that grew up on the ruins of the Roman empire or among the new peoples outside the bounds to which Roman conquest had once extended that no freer The Medieeval Church. conception of Christianity could have accomplished. Equally evident is it, also, that the central force in the mediaeval ecclesiastical system, the papacy, was, on the whole, the leader of Christendom from the downfall of the Roman empire at least to the thir teenth century. It sent forth or superintended missionaries in England and Germany ; it united Europe in the one great combined effort of the middle ages, the Crusades ; it afforded the most conspicuous centre of unity for western Christendom in the divisions of feudalism. Its more gifted popes, like Gregory I., Nicholas I., Hildebrand, or Inno cent III., belong to the small number of the world's great rulers whose work affects long subsequent generations ; and if the papal office was adminis tered by no single occupant equal in genius to a Charlemagne, it may, nevertheless, be said that the papacy as a whole showed more of enlightenment, moral purpose and political wisdom than any suc cession of kings or emperors that mediaeval Europe knew. In spite of grave faults and periods of pro found degradation, the papacy may be said to have shown itself adapted to the conditions of social and religious life prevalent in Europe certainly till the close of the Crusades. The best men of the period, like Anselm, Bernhard, or Thomas Aquinas, were its hearty supporters. But to say that the papacy was adapted to the conditions of mediaeval Europe is not to imply that the institution was permanently illustrative of the highest conceptions of the Christian life, or even that the mediaeval ideal of Christian society was The Reformation. ever approximately realized. Church and State, theoretically harmonious, were in constant struggle one with another for the mastery, usually with very earthly weapons ; and the victories of the papacy were not such as to bring to it permanent spiritual strength. If religion be broadly considered as a spiritual force controlling the lives of men rather than as bound up with a particular system of doctrine and of polity, there is no reason to sup pose, as has sometimes been alleged, that the generations immediately preceding the Reformation were less moved by spiritual concerns than earlier centuries. It was as true then as it now is that religious interest is cyclic and recurrent in intensity rather than continuous, but the evidence is over whelming that the whole mediaeval period witnessed a gradual deepening of the hold of religion on life and thought, so that in strength and power the religious life among the people of Germany in the fifteenth century, for instance, showed vast prog ress from the condition of things among the Franks in the eighth century. If the wider inter ests of religion are had in view, the period just previous to the Reformation witnessed not the lowest decline but the highest development of mediaeval Christianity — high enough to be dissatis fied with its state, to feel dimly the inadequacy of its institutions, and the need of their improvement. Yet if we consider the organized forces of Christianity, especially the hierarchical and monas tic systems, no such continuous amelioration can be affirmed. On the contrary, after a period of effi- Decline of the Papacy. cient service, they became less and less able to minister to the needs of Christian men, partly through their own decay, and partly through their insufficiency to meet the wants of an expanding and less fettered religious life. The tendency of the clergy to become essentially a beauxactacy which { had been manifested in some degree since the con version of the Roman empire increased throughout the middle ages ; and with the decline of crusading zeal and its victory over the Holy Roman Empire in the thirteenth century a rapid deterioration was evident in the ideals of the papacy itself. Its claims '< and those of its supporters never were loftier. Augustinus Triumphus went further, it may be, than most of his contemporary upholders of the papacy would have done when, in 1324, he declared that the decisions of God and of the pope are always the same ; but an orator in the Fifth Lat- eran Council addressed Julius II. as "Tu alter Deus in terris ;" and, as near to the Lutheran upheaval as 15 16, Leo X. solemnly reaffirmed the claim of Boniface VIII., formulated two centuries before, that not to obey the pope is to commit a soul- destroying sin. But, in spite of such declarations as have just been cited, the papacy of the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries showed itself less deserving of obedience — in so far as obedience was due to moral leadership — than it had been in the days of Hilde- brand or Urban II. The reservation of profitable ecclesiastical benefices to be filled in every land by papal appointments, and the exaction of a consicl-, 8 The Reformation. erable portion of the income of each new incumbent of any churchly office as a tax payable to the papal treasury, became significant features of the papal policy in the thirteenth century and grew with startling rapidity under the Avignon popes, flour ishing even more in the exigencies of the schism, till they could hardly be distinguished from a sale of offices. The ancient system of indulgences was rapidly transformed into a means of political favoritism, and especially into a source of revenue. Papal taxes, exactions, and interferences constantly increased as the papal prerogatives were applied to the mint and cummin of ecclesiastical administra tion until it seemed as if the papacy itself was primarily a great taxing agency. Nor was the spiritual character of the popes in general, from the thirteenth century to the Reformation, such as to counterbalance the deteriorating tendencies just outlined. Good men there were among them, but men of impressive religious influence were lacking ; while in Clement VI., John XXIII., Innocent VIII., Alexander VI., or Julius II., the papacy sank to a worldliness which placed it on a level with the worst princes of the age. And this tendency toward the secular, not to add also the immoral, increased as the Reformation era approached. The worst popes of this period of spiritual weakness were not those of the schism, simoniacal as was Boniface IX., but those semi-heathen participants in the full light of the Italian Renascence of the closing quarter of the fifteenth century. The papacy, through the long struggles of the Councils of that century, was Decline of the Papacy. a hindrance rather than a help to reform. By the year 1500, it was evident that churchly renovation through its initiation was out of the question. The decline of the papacy, moreover, involved in large measure the spiritual decay of the clerical body of which it was the head. That decline was, it is equally true, made possible in its extreme degree by the widely prevalent decay of discipline and the low spiritual state of the clerical orders as a whole. The papacy was no worse than the higher clergy generally ; and the same causes produced the same worldly traits in both. But, admitting its ex aggeration, there is still much truth in the complaint of Nicholas of Clemanges, uttered at the beginning of the fifteenth century, that the corruption of the higher clerical offices had led to the filling of the lower with ignorant and unworthy men, and to the degradation of the monastic orders, till the spiritual condition of the Church had become such as appar ently to threaten its very continuance as an organization. Piety among the population of Christendom generally had probably advanced, as has already been pointed out ; but the official leaders of Christendom had grown increasingly separate from the laity, were felt to be less adequate to the expression of religious faith; and less moved by a high and unworldly spiritual zeal than they once had been. While the papacy had thus been deteriorating for more than two centuries previous to the Reforma tion, certain changes had been taking place in west ern Christendom which would have taxed the ut- io The Reformation. most powers of the papacy in its best days to have controlled in such fashion as to retain its mediaeval prestige and authority. Life had been expanding in many directions, and the simpler conditions of the middle ages had been passing into more com plex, more developed, less easily directed social forms. The most obvious of such changes and the most tangible in its effects on the papacy was the rise of modern national life. A large part of the success of the mediaeval popes had been due to the fact that although royal titles were worn, as in France, during the middle ages, wherever the countries of Europe were permeated by feudalism a strong cen tral authority was lacking, a feeling of national unity was not found, and papal authority encoun tered nothing like a national resistance. Feudalism prevailed very unequally in different lands ; but it was a divisive force always. Germany had seemed to promise an exception to this mediaeval disorgan ization ; but the work of its abler emperors could not bring a permanent national unity. Its imperial ambitions turning it aside from the path of internal development, its disputes as to the occupancy of the imperial office, its internal dissensions and its considerable degree of feudalization made the em pire weaker than the papacy in the struggles of the eleventh, twelfth and thirteenth centuries. The unfolding of modern nationality came first in France. Three able kings, Louis VI. (1108-37), Philip Augustus (1 179-1223), and Louis IX. (1226-70), slowly raised the royal power to a greater France. 1 1 height than that of any vassal of the French crown and developed a sense of national unity in that rudimentary form of a perception of common in terests as Frenchmen and hostility to all outside of French territory as foreigners. So strong was this comparatively new-kindled feeling that Philip IV. (1285-1314) could buttress himself impregnably upon it in his contest with Boniface VIII., and could compel the papacy itself to leave its ancient seat under Clement V. and become in large measure the tool of the French monarchy. Much that these French sovereigns had gained seemed lost in the wars with England from 1339 to 1453, which, at times, were almost destructive to the royal power in France ; but the monarchy emerged from the long contests stronger than ever, for their cost to the feudal nobility was far greater than to the kings. So ruinous to the power of the French nobles were these wars, that, under Louis XI. (1461-83), the monarchy was able to assert an authority that was in many ways absolute ; and so largely had France become a centralized state by the close of the fif teenth century, that, under Louis XL's son, Charles VIII. (1483-98), the nation dominated by the king began a career of attempted foreign conquest that was to modify the politics of Europe throughout the whole Reformation period. The same central izing policy and the same attempt to extend the borders of France were pursued by Louis XII. (1498-1515), and even more conspicuously by the brilliant and ambitious Francis I. (1515-47), whose reign was contemporary with the early course of 12 The Reformation. the Reformation. Under his rule France enjoyed a splendid, if corrupt, court, an aggressive foreign policy and military glory, not leading, however, to permanent military success. The contrast between the France of Francis I. and that of a Philip I. (1060-1108) is that between disorganization and unity, between weakness through division and a de gree of strength such as no completely feudal sys tem could approach. In England a similar growth in national senti ment and in royal power is to be noted. Edward I. (1272-1307) had felt strong enough to limit the abuse of ecclesiastical holdings of land by the statute of mortmain in 1279; Edward III. (1327-77) had gone further, and, with the aid of Parliament, had restricted papal appointments to English livings and appeals to papal courts by the statutes of provisors and of praemunire in 1350 and 1353. In 1366 Parliament had refused longer to pay the special tax which John had granted to In nocent III. in 1213, as a pledge of English sub mission to the papacy. During the closing years of the reign of Edward III. and the beginning of that of Richard II. (1377-99), Wiclif acquired not merely much popular following in his anti-papal endeavors, but considerable support from those prominent in English politics. The incoming of the house of Lancaster with Henry IV. (1399-1413) somewhat strengthened the position of the Church, whose aid the Lancastrian sovereigns sought, and the monarchy itself seemed near to shipwreck in the struggles between Yorkists and Lancastrians '-om England. 13 1455 to 1485. But, as the long wars with England proved to the ultimate advantage of the French monarchy by the destruction they brought to the French nobility, so the wars of the Roses cost the nobles of England much more than they did the crown. The monarchy emerged from them by the accession of Henry VII. (1485-1509), the first of the house of Tudor, with power greater than it had ever possessed before. Parliament survived ; the king was still bound to submit to law, in theory at least, as fully as any of his subjects; but, prac tically, the highest authority in the state was the will of the sovereign. And so far had a sense of national unity grown that the sovereigns of the Tudor line, arbitrary as they were, were generally popular as embodying the national aspirations and affording a true national executive. With the death of Henry VII. in 1509, the ablest of the Tudors, Henry VIII., had come to a throne which he was to occupy till 1 547 — a series of years more momentous than any period of similar length in English history. Probably national spirit, opposi tion to foreign rule, and a sense of corporate unity were more highly developed in England than in any other country at the dawn of the Reformation. Spain was the political marvel of the years im mediately preceding the Reformation. Aside from the routes of commerce between Europe and the Orient, barred by the Pyrenees from easy inter course with other European lands, and ruled, from 711 onward, over most of its extent by the disciples of Mohammed, its share in the life of mediaeval Eu- 14 The Reformation. rope had been slight. Its own history had been that of a permanent crusade of its Christian inhabitants against the Moslems, by which the latter had gradu ally been driven southward, till, severely defeated in the battle of Tolosa in 1 2 1 2, they had soon after been confined to the realm of Granada, while the Christians were grouped in the four kingdoms of Castile, Aragon, Portugal and Navarre. These states were weak through mutual warfare, and the independence and jealousies of their feudal nobility. The royal power in each was feeble. Till past the middle of the fifteenth century nothing that could properly be called a Spanish nation had come into being, and the influence of Spain on the rest of Europe was relatively inconsiderable. Suddenly this insignificance was at an end, and as the sixteenth century opened, Spain had risen to the position of the first power in Europe — a trans formation as startling to the politicians of that day as the rise of the Scandinavian lands to political supremacy during the next generation would be to the statesmen of our time. The foundation of the modern Spanish monarchy was laid when, in 1469, the prospective rulership of the greater portion of the Spanish peninsula was united by the marriage of Ferdinand, heir to the throne of Aragon, with Isabella, heiress of Castile. Two sovereigns of greater abilities have probably never held rule together. Ferdinand, skilful, diplomatic, far- sighted and heavy-handed, was admirably supple mented by the conscientious, high-minded, religious Isabella. The authority of the crown was stren- Spain. 15 uously asserted, the internal disunions of Castile and of Aragon were vigorously put down, the nobles and the Church were bent to the royal wills. In 1492, Granada was added, by the defeat of its Moorish rulers, to the Spanish realm. The attempt ed conquests of France enabled Ferdinand to extend his power over Naples by 1504, and speedily to spread the Spanish influence to other parts of Italy ; while the discovery of a new world not only gave the Spanish crown vast possessions beyond the Atlantic, but poured a revenue into the Spanish treasury such as no European sovereign had hith erto enjoyed. No wonder men were looking with amazement and with concern at the fresh young power of Spain as the Reformation opened, and this concern was the deeper when, on the death of Ferdinand in 15 16, these great possessions came into the hands of his grandson of sixteen, already master of the Netherlands, and soon to rule a large portion of Germany and wear the imperial title as Charles V. Italy, in this period, presents a complete contrast to the three countries which have just been consid ered. Nowhere was wealth so great, culture so diffused, art so developed, or commercial activity so marked as in the northern half of the peninsula. But nowhere was political union more wanting than in Italy. Some degree of consolidation had, in deed, taken place since the minutely subdivided time when Francis of Assisi, the future founder of the great mendicant order, could be held a prisoner of war at Perugia, within sight of his home, by the forces of this near-by enemy of his native city. Five 1 6 The Reformation. states included the greater part of Italy at the close of the fifteenth century — Milan and Venice on the north ; Florence1, the States of the Church, and Naples* embracing its central and southern por tions. These states were continually at war one with another. Their quarrels, their leagues, their treaties, were kaleidoscopic. These long-continuing disputes produced results of importance. They compelled the papacy to become politically one of several Italian principali ties, differing little from the others in methods or aims of political advancement. It was as a thor oughly secular-minded Italian prince, for instance, that Alexander VI. (1492-1503) intrigued in Italian affairs, and sought the advancement of his own family; or Julius II. (1503-13) led his troops as a commanding general against Perugia and Bologna. Italian politics, rather than religious considerations, often shaped the action of the papacy during the opening years of the Reformation, so that, for political advantage, the papacy at times aided causes the success of which made for the spread of Protestantism, as when, by supporting Francis I. of France in 1526, Clement VII. prevented the em peror Charles V. from effective interference with the Reformation. The wealth and weakness of divided Italy led to attacks upon it by its stronger neighbors as soon as their dawning national life developed a spirit of conquest. For these attacks beginning with the French invasion under Charles VIII. in 1494, their rival claims to Milan and Naples gave France and Italy. 1 7 Spain constant pretexts ; and, on the whole, Spain prevailed. But the efforts of the popes of the opening decades of the sixteenth century were di rected toward such a playing off of the rival invaders one against another, and such combina tions with other European powers, as to advance their own interests and maintain their political independence. Thus, in 1495, Alexander VI. joined with Spain, Germany, Milan and Venice to drive out the recent French conquerors of Naples ; but, by 1499, in order to increase his family posses sions in the Romagna, Alexander was aiding the French to gain Milan. Julius II. found Venice a bar to his progress, as Maximilian of Germany had also done, and therefore, in 1508, Julius, Maxi milian, France, and in a half-hearted way Spain, formed the " League of Cambrai " against the Venetian state. But French advances alarmed the warlike pope, and, by 15 11, he had called into being the ' ' Holy League ' ' in which the papacy, Venice, Spain, and ultimately both Germany and England, joined in opposition to French con quests on Italian soil. Once again the scenes shifted, and, by 1515, Julius II. 's successor, LeoX., was conspiring with the French to drive the Spaniards out of Naples ; while he was equally ready to enter into agreements with other powers which promised to lessen French influence on the Italian peninsula. And so the attempts of the popes to win something of political advantage from the rivalries of the greater European powers con tinued, the papacy, like other Italian sovepsigrrr|es7 1 8 The Reformation. • ¦ ¦ — - — — ¦— ¦ ' ¦-* all the while sinking in political importance, till with the capture of Rome by Spanish and German troops in 1527, its political weakness was fully demonstrated, and the Spanish preponderance in the affairs of Italy was unmistakable. Not all Italian states came under foreign rule. The papacy, for instance, continued its territorial sovereignty, how ever largely dominated in political affairs by foreign interests. But Italy practically lost its independ ence without diminishing its divisions. It suffered the evils of conquest without the advantages of incorporation in a strong nation. It had no nation ality of its own in the Reformation period. Its story throughout that period was one of increasing misery, decay, and political insignificance. Germany, during the three centuries preceding the Reformation, exhibited no growth in the power of its nominal executive, the Holy Roman emperor, at all correspondent to the contemporary increase in royal authority in France, England and Spain. The country had too many elements of strength to make such a fate as that of Italy possible, but the politi cal disorganization was much the same. The em pire did, indeed, rise above the condition of weak ness which allowed Innocent III. (1198-1216) to dictate the bestowal of its crown. The German nobles gathered at Rense, in 1338, had the courage to declare that the emperor derived his title and au thority from them and not from his coronation by the pope. The Golden Bull of 1356 defined the electors and their rights. And, shortly before the Reformation, serious attempts were made to give a Germany. 1 9 constitution to the divided German land by devel oping the old feudal imperial diet, or Reichstag, so that it should meet annually, in three houses, com posed respectively of electors, princes and the rep resentatives of the imperial cities, and should have a real share in the government (1487, 1489, 1495). At the same time a general judicial tribunal for the whole empire was made a fixed part of the imperial system (1495); the empire was divided into districts for the better preservation of the public peace (1512), and efforts were begun to establish an im perial army and to collect taxes for the imperial treasury. But these reforms had little vitality in them. The Diet, unlike the English Parliament, had no place for the representatives of the lower nobility, much less for those of the people generally. The decisions of the supreme court could not be enforced, the imperial taxes could not be collected. No emperor of the Reformation age had the au thority in Germany which Henry III. or Frederick Barbarossa had enjoyed. Nor was Germany itself a united nation in the sense in which France and England had become united. The higher nobility were almost independ ent of the emperor. The lesser knights, especially in the Rhine country, declared that their allegiance was due to no one but the emperor himself — that is, they held themselves practically independent of all control, and often lived by plunder and highway robbery. Jealous of the cities and of the greater nobles, men like Franz von Sickingen or Gotz von Berlichingen were an element of disorder which no 20 The Reformation. strong government could have tolerated, but in whose deeds the unrest of the lower nobility found expression. The peasantry of Germany was not merely with out share of any sort in government, it was in a state of serfdom — a social condition which had ended in England, and had largely passed away in France. Forced to labor for lawless and exacting masters, the worst possible state of feeling existed widely between the peasantry and the local nobles, especially in southwestern Germany, where the ex ample of Swiss independence had much influence. Peasant insurrections took place in Franconia and Swabia in 1476, 1492, 1512 and 1513; and though the same unrest of the lower classes did not exist in northern and central Germany to any corresponding degree, disaffection with existing authority in Church and State was more widespread in Germany at the close of the fifteenth century than in any other country in Europe. A growing element in the politics of the land were the imperial cities, looking to no superior au thority but the feeble rule of the emperor, and enjoying not only local self-control, but by their leagues and their mutual seK'-support forming a power of increasing importance. Their industry, their wealth, and their commercial activity made them opponents of the exactions of the nobility and of the priesthood alike ; but they were seldom at peace within their own borders. Their govern ment was aristocratic, their guilds were exclusive, and they were fully as narrow-minded and self. Germany. 2 1 seeking, as far as the larger interests of Germany were concerned, as the princes themselves. Yet while all Germany was thus in unrest, and the emperor had little power by reason of his im perial office, many of the component principalities of the empire were growing slowly in strength and had already developed a certain degree of independ ent, and almost of national, life within their limited borders. The two Saxonies — electoral and ducal — Brandenburg, Bavaria, Hesse, the Rhenish Palati nate, were developing a locally centred life under the more prominent German princes. Certain ruling families were conspicuous in German politics at the dawn of the Reformation, of which the most famous was that Habsburg line, the sovereigns of the Aus trian states, who gave emperors to Germany in un interrupted male sequence from 1438 to 1740, and whose representative by female descent possesses the throne of Austria to-day. The Habsburg strength was in its hereditary territories, rather than in its occupancy of the imperial office, and these personal holdings of the Habsburg family were rapidly increased, in the years just preceding the Reformation, by reason of two remarkable marriages. The first of these significant unions was that of Maximilian I., who wore the imperial title from 1493 to 1 5 19. The death of Charles the Bold, the ambitious Duke of Burgundy, in 1477, left the heir ship of the Netherlands, as well as of the Burgun- dian territories, to his daughter, Mary, whose great inheritance led to her marriage the same year to 22 The Reformation. Maximilian, much to the disfavor of Louis XI. of France, who seized a portion of the lands to which Mary laid claim. The seeds of quarrel thus sown between the kings of France and the Habsburg line were to bear harvest of rivalry and blood till, nearly three centuries later, in 1756, this long feud was laid aside on the outbreak of the Seven Years' War. This rivalry was made but more certain and in tense by the second marriage by which the Habs burg interests were conspicuously advanced — that of Philip, the son of Maximilian and Mary, to Joanna, daughter of Ferdinand and Isabella of Spain, and heiress of the vast possessions of that wide-extended sovereignty. So it came about that Philip and Joanna's son, Charles, became by inheritance, in the second decade of the sixteenth century, the ruler of the greatest extent of territory held by a single sovereign since the downfall of the Roman empire — a territory without unity, made up of the most diverse races and cultures, and, as the event proved, to be torn by two opposite and con tending types of churchly reform. And, with this vast inheritance, to which the imperial crown was added by election in 15 19, Charles V. became heir also to the rivalry between the Habsburgs and the sovereigns of France, which is the key to the greater politics of the Reformation period. That rivalry and the struggle for religious reform interplay throughout the Reformation age, constantly modi fying each other. That period of history cannot be understood without a recollection of this contest of two gigantic political powers, both adhering to the Rival Political Powers. 23 ancient faith throughout the struggle — a contest which largely determined the issue of the doctrinal controversies in the several lands which felt the im pulse of religious revolution. It is evident that to maintain its ancient influence in civil affairs in the face of the new national life and of the greater politics of Europe, the ^apacy_had a far more serious task than it had mastered during the middle ages. If it could still interfere in the politics of a divided land, like Germany, so as to determine so momentous a question as the suc cession to an imperial electorate, or annul a de cision of the highest tribunal, its power of inter mixture in civil concerns had been much curtailed in England, France and Spain by the beginning of the sixteenth century, and the sovereigns of those lands had taken the designation of the higher clergy largely into their own hands. « Even in Ger many, whence Emperor Maximilian declared that the pope drew a hundred times larger revenue than he, whence payments sufficient to have sent into the field an army adequate to stem the ominous con quests of the Turks flowed vainly every year to Rome, the tide of opposition to papal intermed dling was strongly rising, so that it found expres sion in formal protests by repeated diets of the empire, notably by that of 15 10. If the stronger governments thus resisted, and even the weaker criticised, some of the more flagrant of the multiplied papal exactions and interferences, what wonder that men were asking, at the begin ning of the sixteenth century, whether the clergy 24 The Reformation. ought to be free from the burden of taxation, whether it was just that special ecclesiastical courts should take the place of the judicial tribunals of the land whenever the interests of a clergyman were in volved, and whether a system that taxed all indus try, taking from the peasant the tenth of every humble product of his farm, or burdening the wealthy of a whole district to pay the charges inci dent to the appointment to office of an archbishop, was not a system of extortion that ought to be over thrown. And men asked these questions all the more im peratively because the growth of the new national life was a growth of lay influence. The old su premacy of the ecclesiastical adviser in royal councils was challenged by the lawyer ; and though the churchman might still be the first servant of the crown in civil affairs, he no longer enjoyed such a monopoly of the learning and experience necessary for the conduct of government as he had possessed in the middle ages. In his answer to Boniface VIII., two centuries before Luther's revolt, Philip IV. of France had declared that "the Holy Mother Church ... is composed not only of clergy men, but also of laymen," and the note then struck is one heard with increasing frequency till the com ing of the Reformation. Even had the papacy con tinued to exemplify the moral earnestness that it had exhibited under Hildebrand or Urban II., it would have found the task of holding in check the new tendencies in the political world of the six teenth century one taxing the utmost of its strength. Decline of Scholasticism. 25 1 A second influence, far more subtle and there fore difficult to estimate in its effects upon the Church during the fourteenth and fifteenth cen turies, but probably even more profound than the rise of the new nations in its modifying results, was the change in mental attitude consequent upon the discrediting of mediaeval philosophy and the rise of the new learning. i No product of the middle ages is more worthy of honor than scholasticism ; for no more earnest effort has ever been made to expound, illustrate and justify the truths of the Christian faith. That great attempt to wed theology and philosophy was at its •height of attainment in the Summa of Thomas Aquinas (1225 P-I274). Under his treatment, philos- taphy became fully the handmaid of faith. Philos ophy cannot, indeed, he taught, reach unaided to the demonstration of more than a segment of the [circle of religious truth. Revelation is needed. rBut philosophy shows the reasonableness of that which Scripture and the Church have taught, and the futility of objections thereunto. Uniting the Aristotelian dialectics, the realistic conception of jthe existence of genera and species, and an ac ceptance of Scripture as the final authority, Aquinas [defended and developed every characteristic doc trine of the mediaeval Church. In him the sov- iereignty of the papacy, the sacrificial character of the mass, purgatory, works of supererogation, in dulgences, and the whole sacramental system came to their classical Roman exposition. The depth, isubtilty and religious fervor with which he treated 26 The Reformation. not merely these topics, but the universally recog. nized fundamentals of Christian truth, have made his discussions a mighty bulwark of the Roman con ception of Christianity to the present day. In his own age they gave the stamp of the highest intel lectual authority to the papal system and its corre lated conceptions. But, before the fourteenth century had run half its course, criticisms of the Thomist theology and the rise of the nominalistic philosophy of William of Occam (i 280-1 347) had largely destroyed belief in that harmony between theology and philos ophy which Aquinas had asserted. Deducing knowledge from experience, Occam, though him self no skeptic, held most doctrines of the Christian faith to be not merely philosophically unprovable, but contradictory to philosophy. He denied any scientific status to theology, and shut it up almost wholly within the realm of dogmatic assertion as a body of truth based on authority, but without philo sophic support. Occam's views spread rapidly, and, till the Reformation, gained increasing sway over those who adhered to scholastic methods. But they produced two results. They greatly weakened the reverence for mediaeval theology as an intellectually defensible presentation of truth such as Aquinas had taught that it was ; and, by appealing to experi ence, they opened a fresh avenue for the pursuit of truth — an avenue restricted by Occam himself to the domain of philosophy, but which others would use as a road to all investigation. In this nominalistic outcome, scholasticism missed The New Learning. 27 \ts original aim — the exposition and defence of Christian truth by philosophy. Believing theology philosophically unsupported but dogmatically au thoritative, scholasticism fell into its dry and hair splitting decline, debating for the sake of dialectic gymnastics rather than as a means of theological demonstration. Its methods and results came largely to discredit themselves, and in so doing dis credited mediaeval theology. From the standpoint of a cordial and hearty intellectual acceptance, the papal system of doctrine, though externally appar ently unshaken, was decidedly less authoritative at the close of the fifteenth century than it had been in the thirteenth. Of greater importance than the decline of scho • lasticism in modifying the thinking of men was the rise of the new learning. No more apparently in explicable phenomenon is to be found in history than the Renascence. It seems as if the human mind, having reached a certain stage of develop ment, opened to new thoughts and conceptions of the world as a plant bursts into flower. The liter ature of ancient Rome had been familiar to the middle ages, as an examination of mediaeval writ ings will readily demonstrate. But suddenly these familar monuments came to have a new significance. Men opened astonished eyes to a world close at hand, yet strange as any across the sea, the world of classical antiquity. The thought and life of that world fascinated and moulded lives afresh with con ceptions which the middle ages had not known. The new impulse appeared first of all, perhaps, in 28, The Reformation. Dante (1265-1321), though in him it was but the glimmer of the dawn. The ' ' Divine Comedy' ' moves on the theological lines marked out by Aquinas, but it represents Virgil as the poet's guide, and places side by side in the lowest depths of hell the be trayer of Christ and the murderers of Julius Caesar. In Petrarch (1304-74) the influence of antiquity was much more marked, and his age learned to ad mire Virgil and Cicero through his enthusiasm. Boccaccio (1313-75) unravelled for his time the in tricacies of classical mythology. By the beginning of the fifteenth century the disciples of the new learning in Italy were no longer isolated individuals, but whole schools. Greek, taught at Florence and elsewhere from 1396 onward by Chrysoloras, was almost as vigorously cultivated as Latin literature, At Florence, at Naples, and soon at Rome, the new learning found powerful support. Plato was once more a living force in philosophy through the teach ings of Bessarion and Gemistos Platon ; and his in fluence was propagated by Ficino (1433-99) an<^ the Florentine Academy. The Councils of the fif teenth century at Constance (1414-18) and Basel (1431-49) stimulated the movement by bringing the transalpine prelates, among whom the fire of the new learning had not yet kindled, in contact with the freshly awakened intellectual life of Italy, where the study of ancient literature was furthered by intercourse with the Greeks at the Council of Fer- raraand Florence (1438-39). And the new learn ing was given wings by the discovery of printing about 1450 — an invention that shared with the many what had been the property of the few. The New Learning. 29 Contemporaneously with the revived interest in letters, art took on a new vitality under the influence of classic models ; and from Niccolo Pisano (1206?- 1278) and Giotto (1276-1336), the development was rapid to the full flowering of Italian art in the works of Perugino (1446-1524), Leonardo da Vinci (1452- 15 19), Raphael (1483-1520), and Michael Angelo (1475-1564). Their skill was largely enlisted in the service of the Church, but their artistic ideals came far more from the remains of pagan antiquity than from the conceptions of the middle ages. Transplanted beyond the Alps, the new learning found welcome in all the countries of western Europe during the half century that preceded the Reforma tion. In Germany it intrenched itself in the Uni versity of Heidelberg, where Rudolph Agricola taught till his death in 1485. The University of Erfurt also gave it a home. It found a conspicuous representative in Reuchlin (145 5-1 522), who gave to German scholars a Latin dictionary, made easier the path to Greek literature by a grammar, and by a similar service unlocked the treasures of the Hebrew tongue to the understanding of learned Europe (1506). Of Reuchlin's pupil and grand-nephew, Melanchthon, there will be abundant occasion to speak in connection with the Reformation. By 1 500 the new learning had spread widely in Germany. Its adherents were a compact, mutually supporting band of sympathizers, and its departure from the older churchly ideals was very marked. In England, Colet (1466-1519) and More (1478-1535) attacked scholasticism, encouraged the study of Greek at the 30 The Reformation. universities, and sought a broad and tolerant ideal of the Church. A similar spirit appeared in France in Bude (1467-1540), the librarian of Francis I.; and in Le Fevre of Etaples (1455 ?— 1536). In Spain the new learning received hearty support from Ximenes (1436-1 5 17), the founder of the University of Alcald, and from Antonio de Lebrija (1442-1522), professor of classical literature at Alcala and Salamanca. All Europe might be said to claim as its citizen the greatest of the humanists, Erasmus (1467 ?— 1 536). No man of his age had so brilliant a reputation in the realm of letters. None had greater influence in moulding scholarly opinion. All that he touched upon was handled in a style that sparkled with wit beyond that of any other writer of his generation, with an erudition that won him the admiration of scholars, and with a wisdom that made him well- nigh the oracle of the humanists of the first third of ^he sixteenth century. The humanistic movement reached its highest in tensity in Italy, the land of its birth. There its more ardent disciples sought to revive the life, as well as the thought, of pagan antiquity, in its vices as well as in its virtues. Even where, as in the case of its less extreme devotees among the high clergy of the peninsula, Christian thought still held sway, it produced a strange mixture of Christian concep tions with ideas borrowed from the philosophy and literature of classic heathenism. In general, the Italian humanists turned aside from any vital con cern for Christian doctrine or any strenuous at tempts to reform the corruptions of the Church. The New Learning. %\ They did not publicly quarrel with Christianity, but their interests centred in an antagonistic range of thought. But north of the Alps humanism seldom wore so extremely paganizing a garb ; and the bet terment of the Church was ardently desired by many of the greater champions of the new learning. Men like Colet and More in England, Wesel, Agricola, and Reuchlin in Germany, or Le Fevre in France, earnestly sought to give to the Church a broader, more enlightened and more moral body of clergy. They opposed mediaeval superstitions and degener ate monasticism. Above all, they directed men to the study of the sources of Christian truth. The same spirit which led them to go back of the medi aeval Latin translations and paraphrases of Aristotle to the very words of the Greek philosopher, and to study afresh his great compeer, Plato, urged them to turn from the mediaeval presentations of Christi anity to the writings of the Fathers, the delineations of Paul and of the Evangelists. The sources of Christianity acquired a new significance under the teachings of humanism ; and the services of human ism to renewed investigation of Christian truth are well typified in the endeavors of two most dissimilar disciples of the new learning, Erasmus and Ximenes, to place the New Testament in its original Greek in the hands of scholars. To the one, Ximenes, is due the credit of first printing the volume in his mon umental " Complutensian Polyglot" (1514-17), though its publication was delayed till 1520 ; to the other, Erasmus, belongs the distinction of first placing the printed Greek text in the reach of all 32 The Reformation. who cared to purchase it by his edition of 1516. The revival of learning was not the Reformation, it had too little sense of the primacy of spiritual things to be that ; but it is not too much to say that its spirit of inquiry made the Reformation possible. Like the new learning in their broadening effect upon the mental horizon, though even less readily measurable in their results, were the brilliant suc cession of geographical discoveries which distin guished the closing years of the fifteenth century and the opening decades of the sixteenth. Medi aeval Europe had faced eastward. The routes of commerce had led from Constantinople and from Egypt to Italy, whose northern cities were the fac tories and the distributing centres of the chief trade of Christendom. But for two centuries at least before the Reformation the remoter com merce with the Orient, dependent on the caravans of Syria and the vessels of the Red Sea, had been growing more difficult. Christian Europe was di minishing in territorial extent before the march of the Turks, whose capture of Constantinople, in 1453, was but the most dramatic episode of two centuries and a quarter of victorious advance which carried the Turkish sovereignty to the eastern shores of the Adriatic and across the continent of Europe nearly half the distance from the Bosphorus to the Straits of Dover. Commercial enterprise was thus limited in its former range of activity, for wherever the Turk has gone trade has languished. To the desire to find a route to the East with which the Turk could not interfere the world-. The Discoveries. 33 changing discoveries were due. This task, under taken and successfully accomplished by the sailors of the Spanish peninsula, robbed Italy of its com mercial supremacy, and reversed the direction in which Europe may be said commercially to face. The solution of the problem was not the result of chance. From the beginnings of the systematic ex ploration of the African coast under the impulse of Prince Henry the navigator, in 141 8, sixty-nine years of persistent effort elapsed before the Por tuguese voyagers, led by Bartholomew Diaz, reached the Cape of Good Hope, in 1487, and eighty years before a Portuguese fleet commanded by Vasco da Gama completed the long endeavor by its arrival in a harbor of southern India in 1498. But, before the patient explorations of the Por tuguese had thus been crowned with success, a yet more brilliant series of discoveries had been inau gurated as the direct consequence of attempts to solve the problem to which the Portuguese navi gators had addressed themselves. Believing that India might be reached by sailing westward over a shorter route than any that might be found around Africa, Columbus unwittingly discovered the out lying islands of a new continent in 1492 — a discovery which excited almost as much interest in other coun tries of Europe as in Spain itself. The next year, 1493, saw the beginnings of Spanish colonization in the West Indian Islands. Discovery followed dis covery. The Pacific was reached by Balboa in 1513, and the globular form of our planet demon strated by MageHaaPW *ap^e between 15 19 and 34 The Reformation. 1522. The years which witnessed Magellan's memorable undertaking beheld the conquest of Mexico by Cortez, and 1531-32 saw the success ful inroad of Spanish adventurers into Peru. Not only were the possessions of the Spanish crown greatly extended, but the Spanish treasury had poured into it, temporarily at least, an income such as no European government of the middle ages, save possibly that of the pope, had ever conceived possible. No generation in history had crowded into its experience so many geographical discoveries of far-reaching significance, saw pre vious barriers to knowledge of the world so generally thrown down, or was so stirred in its imagination by romantic adventure, as that which followed the first voyage of Columbus. Old limitations to geograph ical knowledge crumbled away. The mediaeval con ception of the flatness of the earth proved as base less as the Aristotelian notion that nothing could live in the tropics, or the popular superstition that the western Atlantic was a sea of darkness. It would, indeed, be rash to affirm that this tre mendous enlargement of geographical knowledge had any direct religious significance ; and even more venturesome to assert that it tended, of itself, to promote the Protestant Reformation. The his tories of Spain and Portugal are a refutation of such a claim. But it undoubtedly increased the feeling that the age stood on the eve of great changes, that the old was passing away, and it made thousands more ready to accept the new in other realms than those of terrestrial discovery. In this sense the The Discoveries. 35 voyages and explorations probably awoke a feeling of expectation in the mass of the population of Christendom more widely than the revival of learn ing. That moved the few intensely, the discoveries really, though vaguely, affected the many. While new political and intellectual forces were thus arising with which the papacy would have to contend were it to retain its ancient supremacy, the course of spiritual movements within and without the Church was such as to show with equal clear ness that the conditions which had been developed in the middle ages were likely to be modified pro foundly. These movements were diverse in ten dency ; but, whether reactionary or revolutionary, they revealed dissatisfaction with the existing state of the Church. Most conservative and most widely supported of any of these attempts at spiritual improvement dur ing the century and a quarter preceding the German Reformation had been the effort to alter the papacy from an absolute to a constitutional monarchy, which grew out of the evils of the schism and re sulted in the councils of Pisa (1409), Constance (1414-18), and Basel (1431-49). The theologians of the Gallican school, d'Ailli, Gerson, Clemanges and their associates, while holding to the strictest type of Catholic doctrinal orthodoxy regarding the way of salvation, affirmed a distinction between the Universal Church, of which Christ is the head, and the Roman Church, whose head is the pope, the vicar of Christ. This thought did not lead them, as it might logically have done, to a full discrimina- 36 The Reformation. tion between the visible and the invisible Church. But, while they insisted that the papacy was of divine appointment, it led them to maintain that a general council representing the Universal Church had power to sit in judgment on the pope, to limit his acts, to depose him if unworthy, and to give laws for ecclesiastical administration. In the might of this assertion of superiority of a general council over the pope — an assertion that had been gaining support since its promulgation by Marsilius of Padua in 1324 — the Council of Constance healed the schism ; and its leaders would gladly have effected a moral purification of the Church had not greed, jealousy, and the intrenched power of vested rights made any substantial betterment "in head and members" by conciliar agency impossible. This mismanagement, partisanship, and inef ficiency of the councils themselves, especially of that of Basel, led to a reaction in favor of the papal claims to supremacy ; but the renewed acquiescence in papal authority was not due to a revived sense of the rightfulness of the papal assertions so much as to an inability to find anything better in the coun cils. The conciliar movement in its utmost antag onism to the popes of the schism never exceeded the bounds of Catholic orthodoxy. Its leaders were no forerunners of the Lutheran Reformation. But its ultimate influence was to help forward the cause of reform by demonstrating the difficulty of a regeneration of the papal system from within, by stimulating the desire for the moral betterment of the clergy, and by fixing in the minds of thousands Marsilius of Padua. 37 the thought, destined to bear much fruit in the early history of the German Reformation, that there ex isted in a general council of the Church, even if in abeyance, an authority superior to the pope, which might be invoked if the state of the Church became sufficiently exigent. Much more radical in their breach with the papal system than the divines of the reforming councils, yet standing in many respects on mediaeval ground rather than that which the German Reformation was to occupy, were a series of brilliant opponents of papal claims, from Marsilius of Padua to John Huss. Marsilius (c. 1270-1342?), the keenest-sighted of these antagonists of hierarchical usurpation, pre sented ideas in his Defensor Pads, written at Paris in 1324, which seem almost a counterpart of modern thought. Applying to the Church his conception of the State as finding its ultimate authority in the will of the people, whose responsible executive rep resentatives all rulers are, he maintained that the designation " Church " is not to be confined to any clerical order, but belongs to the whole body of Christian believers, clergy and laymen, who all have equal right to the title ecclesiastics. Like the people in civil affairs, the Church — that is, the com munity of believers — is superior to any of its officers. Its doctrinal standard is the Bible. Its highest authority is a general council, representative of clergy and laymen. The Scriptures teach, Marsil ius held, that all clergy are equal ; and such prom inence as has come to be associated with popes an"-"1 38 The Reformation. bishops, though perhaps convenient, is of human origin. Clergy are to be appointed by the whole body of believers of the districts which they serve, acting directly or by the executive representatives of those districts — that is, by the magistrates, princes and kings. The same authorities can remove them if unworthy. To the communities, through their rulers, every clergyman is amenable for breaches of law. He stands on the same footing as a layman before the civil courts, which are the only rightful courts. No clergyman has the right to judge, to administer civil affairs, or to enforce excommunica tion by civil penalties ; nor does the excommuni cation of the priest really condemn spiritually unless it coincides with the judgment of God, who knows the secrets of the heart. The civil magistrate him self has no power to punish heresy save when dan gerous to the civil peace of the community. Christ alone judges the heretic. Such a work is a marvel for its age. It antici pates much that characterized the Protestant Reformation — the universal priesthood of believers, the sole authority of the Scriptures, the human origin of the papacy, the power of rulers to control ecclesiastical appointments. But it goes much beyond the Reformation age in its assertions of the power of the people and of religious liberty. No wonder Clement VI. declared, in 1343, that he "had never read a worse heretic than this Marsilius ;" or that the dawn of the Protestant Reformation saw the publication of editions and translations of the work. Had Marsilius been a man of kindling William, of Occam. 39 religious zeal, instead of an unemotional, somewhat unspiritual writer, he might perhaps have founded a new branch of the Church, though he was probably too far in advance of his age to have secured many followers in any event. But, as it was, he sowed seed for a later harvest. Some of these thoughts of the Italian publicist just considered were shared by his English-born asso ciate at the University of Paris and companion of his exile to the court of Louis of Bavaria, the eminent nominalistic philosopher, William of Occam (1280?- 1347). The rejection as a heretical claim by Pope John XXII., in 1322, of the assertion of the stricter Franciscans that Christ and the Apostles exercised no property rights roused the opposition of Occam to the abuses of the papal system, since he was not only an officer of the Franciscan order, but a be liever in "evangelical poverty." (Without wholly rejecting the papacy, he finds its interferences with the State, its pretensions to interpret Christian doctrine, its pomp and pride, inconsistent with the Scriptures, wherein he discovers the sole final authority. Truth may have its lodgment in the heart of the humblest Christian believer when absent from the hierarchy. The Christian com munity, by its rulers and its councils, may assert its rights against hierarchical interference. Occam had none of the clearness of vision which marked Marsilius, but because he was not so far beyond his age as the writer of the Defensor Pads, he influenced it even more, and his views on doctrinal and admin istrative questions had a moulding power on others 40 The Reformation. to some extent till the Reformation. Luther him- self was affected by him. Not so clear a thinker as Marsilius, but of a much intenser religious nature, was the English reformer, John Wiclif (i320?-i384). Wiclif's criticism of the existing errors of the Church and his development of his own views were gradual processes. Long a student and professor at Oxford, where he ranked as the ablest schoolman of his day, patriotic oppo sition to papal encroachments in England led him, as early as 1366, to deny the rights of temporal rule, taxation and amassing of property to the papacy, the prelates and the monks quite in the spirit of Occam's insistence on " evangelical poverty." To his thinking, the true Church is the invisible number of the predestinate, and, as such, may be distinguished from the mixed Church which is visible in this world. Yet this thought, so criti cally applied by Wiclif and by Huss to the papacy, was not original with the English theologian ; it had been presented by many mediaeval writers. Of the true Church, Wiclif affirmed, the Scriptures are the fundamental law ; though at first he was in clined to give to tradition an interpretive authority which he later denied. But persecution and the melancholy spectacle of two rival popes each claiming to be the vicar of Christ led Wiclif, from 1378 onward, to yet sharper criticisms. The only head of the Church he now declared is Christ. The pope, unless he be one of the predestinate who rule in the spirit of the Gospel, is the vicar of Antichrist, and, further, all John Wiclif. 41 particular bodies and associations in the one Church, like the power-grasping hierarchy, or the monks and friars who claimed special religious sanctity, are without scriptural warrant — they divide the one flock of Christ. The centre and source of priestly claim to superiority over the lay man is in the asserted power to effect the Eucharis- tic miracle. Hence Wiclif was led to examine this vital tenet of the mediaeval Church in the light of Scripture and of reason, and, in 1381, startled Eng land with the declaration that the doctrine of tran- substantiation was an error to be condemned. He now denied the infallibility of the Roman Church in matters of faith, rejected the necessity of auricu lar confession, criticised the doctrines of purgatory, pilgrimages, worship of saints and veneration of relics as unscriptural, and maintained that the Bible reveals no other officers than priests and deacons as necessary for the Church. Wiclif was much more, however, than a theoretic reformer. He was sincerely desirous of advancing the Kingdom of God in England. Convinced of the necessity of supplementing the Latin services of what he deemed a largely unworthy priesthood by preaching in the English tongue, he sent forth, after 1378, what were called "poor priests" — that is, unbeneficed preachers — who proclaimed the Gospel in churches, streets or market-places as they had opportunity. To provide them with a message, and to put the knowledge of what he deemed the only fundamental law of the Church within the reach of laity as well as of clergy, he and his friends trans- 42 The Reformation. lated the Bible from the Vulgate, the first edition being completed in 1 382. This translation is as im portant in the history of the English language as of English religious life ; and, in spite of rigid attempts at its suppression, it made England the most Bible- reading country of Christendom during the century that preceded the Reformation. Yet, though widely sympathized in by many of influence and position, Wiclif 's movement had little organized permanency. Pressed upon by the stat ute de hceretico comburendo of 1401, as a party of political influence the Wiclifites had little corporate significance after the execution of Sir John Oldcastle in 1417. But the number of copies of Wiclif 's trans lation of the Bible and of his works which have come down to our time shows that his movement had vitality ; and it can be no accident that, in general, those sections of England which most felt his in fluence were readiest to welcome the Protestant Reformation a century and a half after his death. Wiclif's influence extended beyond the bounds of England, also, in a remarkable way. Bohemia, thanks to the ready interchange of students between universities, when Latin was the language of in struction, and thanks, also, to the marriage of Rich ard II. of England to a Bohemian princess in 1382, was brought into acquaintance with Wiclif's writings as early certainly as 1398. The land had been pre pared by the labors of preachers and moral re formers, such as Conrad of Waldhausen (d. 1369), Milicz of Kremsier (d. 1374), and Matthias of Janow (d. 1394) ; and Bohemian national feeling was strong John Huss. 43 then as it is to-day. Not a little of the speedy popularity of Wiclif's works was undoubtedly due to their sturdy assertion of national independence against foreign encroachment, even that of the pope ; and, in the University of Prague, the fact that the Germans were nominalists in the philosophical dis cussions of the day led the Bohemian students to search the writings of Wiclif, the most eminent realist of his time, for answers to the German po sition. Conspicuous among the younger lecturers at the University of Prague at the time of the introduction of Wiclif's writings into Bohemia was John Huss (1369 P-I4I5), a man of strenuous Christian faith, sim ple-minded devotion to truth as he conceived it, and great influence as a preacher and mover of men. Under the persuasive presentations of Huss, a con siderable part of the people of Prague adopted Wic- lifite views ; and his condemnation by the Council of Constance and martyrdom made him a Bohemian national hero. Yet Huss added nothing to Wiclif's attack on the existing order of churchly things, save that he advocated the administration of the com munion in both bread and wine to the laity. Indeed, in many points Huss was not as radical as Wiclif. Unlike the English theologian, he had no quarrel, for instance, with the doctrine of transubstantiation. But he had an opportunity not given to any of the opponents of the papacy just considered to witness to the sanctity of conscientious private judgment. The Council of Constance did not wish to have Huss burned. Its members stood ready to accept a very 44 The Reformation. Vague affirmation of general submission to the in fallible wisdom of the Church. But Huss was of the stuff of which heroes are made. He would play no tricks with his conscience, and he steadfastly re fused any compromise which involved the submission of his convictions of truth to the overruling of eccle siastical authority. In his stand before the Council of Constance, as in that of Luther before the Reichs tag of Worms more than a hundred years later, two antagonistic theories of the use of the divinely im planted faculties of the mind were brought into col lision ; nor has their conflict yet ceased. The posi tion of the Council — that the cheerful submission of individual opinion to the judgment of the Church is a Christian duty — is the teaching of the Roman communion to-day ; the assertion of Huss of re sponsibility to God for the full and unfettered use of personal judgment is that of Protestantism to this hour. Yet none of the thinkers who have just been con sidered, largely as they anticipated much that char acterized the Protestant Reformation, broke thor oughly with the mediaeval conceptions of the way of salvation, and therefore they stood related on this vital point rather to the mediaeval Church than to Protestantism. They were not the fathers of the Protestant Reformation ; but they show how deep was the desire for some sort of a Reformation of the existing state of the Church, and how unsatisfactory were its spiritual condition and its claims to the more radical thinkers of the four teenth century. The Mystics. 45 Beside these more intellectual and systematic criticisms of the churchly conceptions which the papal system represented, the middle ages wit nessed many strivings within and without the Church after a type of piety unlike the semi-legal istic, sacramentarian, penetential and corporate form that was most markedly characteristic of the Roman point of view. Anselm (1033-1 109), and even more Bernhard (1090-1 153), though strict exponents of most of the features of the mediaeval conception of Christianity, yet so asserted the doctrine of justi fication by faith as to stand almost on what was to be later the Protestant ground in this matter ; and Bernhard profoundly influenced Luther in the re former's formative years. Much less in the circle of the thoughts of the later Protestant Reformation yet contributing to the im pulses that were to produce it were the DominicarB mystics, especially those of the Rhine country.' Mediaeval in their insistence on asceticism and con-1 templation as the fundamental duties of the Chris tian life, men like Tauler of Strassburg (c. 1300-^ 61), or the author of the German Theology, or John of Ruysbroek (1293-1381), nevertheless laid comparatively little weight on the ceremonials of the Church, and emphasized the primary value of a new attitude of the soul toward God and of a new spiritual birth. Through the " Friends of God" and the ' ' Brethren of the Common Lif e " these views were widely spread among the laity of Germany, Switzerland and the Netherlands before the close of the fourteenth century 46 The Reformation. • ..... - ¦ , . — - ¦- ¦ ¦ ... r- ¦ ' - ¦ >** Even mediaeval monasticism in its later develop. ments under the impulse that came out from Dom inic and Francis, though diametrically opposed to Protestantism in its theory of the method of salva tion, yet prepared the way by its popular preaching for the consideration of the aspects of Christian truth which the Protestant Reformation was to bring into debate. That preaching centred about the forgiveness of sins, thus involuntarily raising in the popular mind the question of the efficacy of the solution of this problem of Christian experi ence offered by the mediaeval Church. Preaching, though sadly neglected by the beneficed clergy, un doubtedly increased in prevalence and popular effectiveness during the two centuries that pre ceded the Reformation, and the very zeal with which pilgrimages were pursued, shrines sought, and indulgences purchased in fifteenth century Germany, at the time of the actual beginning of the Protestant Reformation, shows the growing in terest of the laity in the problems with which the Reformation in Germany was first to be occupied. And an even more significant evidence of the stir rings of a new spirit of religious inquiry in the lands which were soon to be the battle-grounds of the Protestant Reformation appears in the printing, between 1456 and 15 18, of no less than fourteen editions of the Bible in German and four in Dutch, in addition to at least ninety-eight editions of the Scriptures in Latin. Certainly preaching and Bible- study had done much, by the close of the fif teenth century, at least in Teutonic lands, to pre- Various Influences. 47 pare the laity for the spiritual revolution which was to come. Of the influence of the anti-Roman sects of the middle ages, in preparing the way for the Protestant Reformation, it is less easy to speak. The Cathari of southern France, extremely threatening by the year 1200, had been swept out of existence by the combined forces of Church and State before the middle of the fourteenth century. The Fraticelli of Italy and southern France ran their violent course of insistence on " evangelical poverty," and of opposition to a papacy that would not yield to their views, in the fourteenth century ; but their movement had spent its force before the Reformation age, and prepared the way for the Reformation in no other sense than that of adding to the general sum of protest against a corrupt hi erarchy. Their own theory of the way of salvation was thoroughly ascetic and mediaeval. But the Waldenses, though at no time apparently so numerous as were the Cathari of the thirteenth century, or so prominently in the public eye as the Fraticelli of a hundred years later, were much more widespread and persistent. Starting with Waldo of Lyons, about 1173, in a simple desire to preach the Gospel and to practise the Sermon on the Mount as the literal rule of the Christian life — a desire not differentiating them essentially from other warm-hearted men in the Roman communion of that age — they were driven outside the Roman Church, not at first as heretics, but as unwilling to abandon lay -preaching at the command of ecclesias- 48 The Reformation. tical superiors. Once outside it, they remained in rapidly increasing opposition to its prelates by rea son of their own conviction of the sole binding authority of the Scriptures as the law of the Christian life and of preaching as the first of Christian duties. But they had no sense of departure from the gen eral system of doctrine for which the mediaeval Church stood, nor did the early French Waldenses at least hesitate to participate in the sacraments of the Roman Church. They were not Protestants. Their theory of salvation was as far removed as possible from that doctrine of justification by faith alone which the Lutheran revolution was to empha size. They found its method in a likeness to Christ which was largely an imitation in externals, as in His poverty. They discovered it in a literal obedience to His commands which led them to deny the right fulness of oaths, the propriety of any judicial form of taking life, the admissibility of holding civil of fice or of participation in war ; which sent them forth preaching two by two, shod in the sabots of the French peasantry, in imitation of the sandals of the early disciples, and even persuaded them that the Lord's prayer was the sole permissible form of pub lic petition. Their view of the Christian life was- fundamentally ascetic ; they valued confession, celi bacy and fasting. From this early unconsciousness of a fundamental breach with the Roman Church, hierarchical opposi tion and the pressure of the Inquisition, as well as their acceptance of the Bible as the sole source of authority, led them rapidly to more definite antag- The Waldenses. 49 onism. By 1260, the Waldenses of Lombardy and Germany at least had come not only to reject the Roman Church with its statutes and observances, but to deny as unwarranted by Scripture the Ave Maria and the Apostles' Creed, the doctrines of transubstantiation, purgatory, prayers for the dead or to saints, and indulgences, while rejecting also fasting in Lent and the observance of other sacred days than Sunday and those commemorative of the life of the Lord. Beyond these positions, the Waldenses made little, if any, advance before the Reformation age ; and, however the views just described may anticipate features of later Protest antism, they did not make their holders Protestants in the Reformation sense. Working necessarily in secret, it is impossible to estimate the numbers or fully to trace the diffusion of the Waldenses, but such glimpses as are obtain able, largely through reports of their persecutors, show that this hunted sect was very widespread. Beside their original habitat in southeastern France and northern Italy, they were to be found in the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries scattered through Germany, and in Austria and Switzerland. They seem to have prepared the ground, in some meas ure, for the Hussite movement in Bohemia, and to have united with its more radical elements. Though somewhat abated in their ancient zeal, the Ref ormation found them still existent ; and while the more conservative Reformers, like Luther or Zwin- gli, can scarce conceivably have gained anything from them, it is a debated question at the present 50 The Reformation. day whether the more radical sects of the Protest ant revolution, notably the Anabaptists, may not have been really a fresh outcropping of the medi aeval anti-Roman movements of which the Wal denses had been the most influential. The claim seems, indeed, far from proved in its entirety ; but the similarity is considerable between these move ments of the ending centuries of the middle ages and the extremer parties which the Reformation developed. All these fermenting forces, political, intellectual and religious, were intensified as the Reformation age approached by the new spirit of individualism which had many roots, but drew its vigor chiefly, perhaps, from the revival of learning. The middle ages were corporate not alone in their conception of religion, but in all departments of life. They were the heyday of guilds, trades-associations, and fraternities. Students and professors joined in bodies politic in universities ; weavers or bakers, butchers or armorers had their own strictly guarded organizations in the larger cities ; merchants simi larly combined in wide-extended, self-governing corporations. Individuality could not, indeed, be wholly suppressed. The great teachers of the Church, like Anselm, Bernhard or Aquinas, stand above their fellows as a mediaeval cathedral towers above the low houses of a city of northern France. But the mediaeval life tended to repress individual peculiarities and to absorb the personal in the cor porate. To pass the bounds of the social rank in which one was born was, at least in the lay Individualism. 5 1 world, very difficult. A notable illustration of the mediaeval repression of individual conspicuity may be found in the cathedrals just mentioned. Monu ments of the highest architectural skill, little is known of their designers, and the artistic excellence of the work has yielded in almost no instance a harvest of personal fame. But in the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries all became different. Guilds and corporations con tinued, but they were beginning to decay. A Fugger became a power in the business world ; a Raphael or a Michael Angelo stood forth sharply outlined, dominant, personally forceful in the realm of art ; an Erasmus was almost worshipped in the republic of letters ; a Columbus, by the boldness of a great original conception, became the discoverer of a new world ; a Copernicus revealed a new heaven to incredulous Europe. These men yet stand out clear and masterful in the retrospect of that age. Individual initiative and personal leadership were then taking the place of corporate association in most realms of thought. Religion was still guarded by a wall of traditional interpretation, buttressed by a formidable and all-pervasive hierarchical sys tem, and an inquisitorial repression of departures from established standards. But, stirred as the Church was at the close of the fifteenth century by a sense of its own corruption, formalism, and of the inadequacy of its spiritual life, the new individual ism was certain to make itself powerfully felt in Christian thought. The existing state of the Church could not continue unmodified. The new 52 The Reformation. forces touching it from most diverse quarters were too various and too strong to be wholly resisted. Leadership had acquired a new significance, while independence of thought was dawning as a possi bility on the minds of a few. A Reformation of some sort was inevitable at the opening of the sixteenth century ; but was it to be conservative and reactionary, or was it to be a revolution ? That was the question to which Europe was to give diverse answers, and the answers were permanently to divide western Christendom. CHAPTER II. THE SPANISH AWAKENING. |HE answer of humanism, as typified, for instance, in Erasmus, to the universal demand of the opening sixteenth century for some effective churchly reform has already been indicated. Educate, study the sources of the Christian faith, purify the Church from superstition and superstitious practices, the great humanist said in effect, and the result will be a learned, sane and moral institution. It was an answer that profoundly affected Europe, and was to contribute to the reformatory efforts of those who remained within the communion of the ancient Church as well as of those who separated from it. Both in large measure made it their own. But, in itself, it was an answer that reckoned far too little with the religious feelings of men to make it adequate to the needs of the age. It was too largely an intellectual enlightenment rather than a religious renovation. Something more deep-search ing in its adaptation to the profound spiritual wants of the human heart must be found if a reform movement that would appeal to any great part of Christendom was to be inaugurated. 53 54 The Reformation. It was but natural that while the desire for re form was widespread, the attitude of much of Europe regarding the form and extent of improve ment in churchly conditions would in any event be conservative. The leaders of the conciliar move ment of the fifteenth century had deemed it suf ficient to attempt the amendment of the most glaring abuses in the administration of the Church, to aim at the purification of its discipline, to seek the moral elevation of the papacy, and to limit the extremer manifestations of papal interference in secular affairs. The new learning but emphasized the desire for a more competent and worthy clergy which the councils of Constance and Basel had felt. But these reformatory impulses did not imply any wish to alter the essential features of the doctrinal fabric which the middle ages had erected. There were no more earnest defenders of the mediaeval conceptions of Christianity, no more conscientious antagonists of what they deemed heresy in the innovations of Wiclif or Huss, than the fathers of the fifteenth century councils. And the type of reform that they had sought continued to be that desired by a great part of Europe throughout the whole Reformation age. What the councils failed to accomplish it seemed might be effected by the rising national conscious ness of Europe. The monarchies that were grow ing rapidly into power in Spain, in France and in England as the fifteenth century drew to a close were the truest representatives of the new national life, and seemed to earnest seekers for the better- National Life. 55 ment of the Church to offer the most hopeful in struments for accomplishing reform. The whole ecclesiastical history of the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries, with their schisms and councils, their compacts between popes and kings, had emphasized the conception of national churches as having an administrative unity and a kind of subordinate corporate independence within the one Church of which they were parts. And as the rising mon archies were the expression of the awakening national life of France, England or Spain, so those monarchies appeared the natural and efficient organs by which the Christian peoples of those lands could better the state of the particular por tions of the still undivided Church that were within their own borders. It was in Spain that the desire for a conservative reformation that should involve no alteration in doctrine combined with the fresh vigor of the monarchy in the last two decades of the fifteenth century to bring into being a movement for the purification of the Church, which by reason of its superior intensity and power and of the fact that it was destined to become the pattern and inspiration of similar efforts elsewhere, rather than by any uniqueness of method or aim, deserves the name of the "Spanish Awakening." In general purpose it did not differ from many reformatory attempts which the later middle ages had witnessed ; but the peculiar circumstances of the country of its birth and the energetic support of the Spanish sover eigns gave it a vitality and an influence which no. 5^ The Reformation. ,, — . -- — iii ¦ « preceding endeavor, however similar, had attained. First of any reform movement of the age to be extensively efficient, it became the type and fountain of one of the two great reformatory efforts that were to struggle for the mastery of Europe. Certain salient traits of the Spanish character de termined the aspect which this betterment of the Church assumed, as truly as certain peculiarities of Spanish national development at the close of the fifteenth century gave to it power. Proud of their doctrinal orthodoxy, which long contests with Mo hammedanism had made a test of patriotism, in clined, like all Latin nations, to view asceticism as essential to the highest manifestation of the religious life, and to find the loftiest type of Christian attain ment in the ecstatic experiences possible to the few rather than in the faithful discharge of daily duties within the reach of the many, attached to the medi aeval worship, to its conceptions of the way of salva tion, its protecting saints, its sacred shrines, its priesthood and its sacraments, no reform of the Church was possible to the people of Spain which involved any alteration in its doctrine or essential constitution. Yet nowhere else in Latin Europe was the Church of the closing fifteenth century so bound up with the national life or, on the whole, so independent of papal control as in Spain. Since 1 38 1, certainly, though not without vigorous and at times successful papal opposition, the Castilian mon- archs had insisted that Spanish bishoprics be filled with Spaniards and that papal taxes should be lim ited. Thanks in part to the semi-monastic military Spanish Character. 57 orders, in part also to a kind of familiarity with theological and ecclesiastical questions which the common contest with Mohammedanism spread among the people as a whole, the line between clergy and laity in Spain was less divisive than in Christendom generally. Popular learning in Spain was inconsiderable and the education of the clergy so low that the council of Aranda, in 1473, had to forbid further ordinations of those ignorant of Latin, yet the Bible was much studied by the educated of the land, in vernacular translations, like that of 1478, as well as in the learned tongues. The Span ish people felt an intense zeal for the defence and spread of the Church, often quite apart from any marked conformity of life to its teachings. The missionary motive, strangely intermingled with much more sordid aims, was undeniably present in the explorers and conquerors of the age of the great discoveries, and added its inspiration to their efforts to gain a new world. And in this desire to increase the empire of the Church, these men of action were but representative of the nation from which they sprang. In a word, in no European country was the Church more thoroughly representative of the national life, or more independent of papal con trol, while yet fanatically attached to the mediaeval ecclesiastical system which found its head in the papacy, than in Spain. The Spanish Church and the Spanish monarchy felt that they could afford to go counter to the papacy in many things, because their churchly zeal and Catholic orthodoxy were be yond question ; and this feeling accounts for the in- 58 The Reformation. dependence of papal dictation, while strenuously maintaining the Roman cause, which the Spanish sovereigns manifested in repeated instances during the Reformation period. So it came about that when Spanish national life suddenly blossomed forth in strength under the joint sovereignty of Ferdinand and Isabella, those monarchs, and especially the deeply religious queen, turned their attention to the purification and devel opment of the Spanish Church. Not that their mo tives were wholly religious. Their aim was in large part political — to control the Church as one of the organs of national life. Here, as throughout the Reformation period, we behold religious and political impulses so intertwined that they are scarcely to be disassociated. But, none the less, Ferdinand and Isabella did a most influential work for the Spanish Church. Determined as earnestly to better the notoriously fallen character of the Spanish clergy as to extend the power of the crown, the joint sovereigns, in 1482, compelled Pope Six- tus IV., by ordering the withdrawal of Spanish sub jects from the papal states and by threatening to call a general council, to agree to a concordat, wherein the pope pledged himself to appoint only Spaniards nominated by the crown to the higher positions in the Church of the peninsula. The royal rights thus confirmed were speedily increased in the practice of the joint sovereigns. Papal bulls ap plicable to Spain now required the royal approval for their effective promulgation ; the ecclesiastical courts were supervised ; the interference of the Ferdinand and Isabella. 59 clergy in temporal concerns regulated, special taxes laid upon them, and the Church largely brought under the royal control. Under the extensive powers thus vindicated, many of which had long been less effectively claimed by Spanish rulers, Ferdinand and Isabella proceeded to fill the important stations in the Spanish Church, as fast as they became vacant, not only with men de voted to the royal interests, but of strenuous piety and of disciplinary zeal. In this work they received special aid from three men of marked abilities — Car dinal Pedro Gonzalez de Mendoza, who, though not himself without serious faults of character, at least in early life, filled the chief see of Spain, the arch bishopric of Toledo, from 1482 to 1495 ; Fernando de Talavera, Isabella's monastic confessor, who was made archbishop of Granada on the surrender of that city by the Moors in 1492 ; and one who was des tined to become the most eminent Spanish ecclesi astic of the age, Gonzalez (or, as he preferred to call himself, Francisco) Ximenes de Cisneros, who suc ceeded Talavera as the queen's confessor, and, at the suggestion of the dying Mendoza, was given the archbishopric of Toledo by the influence of his royal patron in 1495- No less remarkable in talents than in character, Ximenes is one of the striking figures of an age of great men. Born in comparative poverty, though of good family, in 1436, he fitted himself for the service of the Church by studies at Alcala, Salamanca and Rome. On leaving the papal city for Spain, in 1473, Sixtus IV. presented the young ecclesiastic, 60 The Reformation. as a mark of good-will, with an expectative letter appointing him to the first benefice of a certain grade of income that should become vacant in the province of Toledo. Naturally, in view of the gen eral attitude of the Spanish government toward papal interferences of which this was a type, Archbishop Alfonso Carillo resented Ximenes's claim to an archpriesthood at Uzeda. But Ximenes demon strated not so much his respect for the papacy as his tenacity regarding what he deemed his rights by compelling the wearied archbishop to admit his title after that ecclesiastical superior had vainly impris oned the obstinate bearer of the pope's grant for six years. Once released, Ximenes rose speedily to prominence, not merely as a zealous priest, but even more as a man of administrative ability, becoming vicar to Mendoza, then bishop of Siguenza, but to be Carillo's successor in the see of Toledo and Ximenes's abundant benefactor. Yet to Ximenes's mediaeval type of piety a life of such activity did not seem one of the highest Christ- likeness ; and, therefore, suddenly abandoning his hard-won posts of authority, he joined himself to the strictest branch of the Franciscans and distin guished himself even among his austere associates by his self-inflicted mortifications of the flesh and spirit. Such a man, of iron firmness of will, of mediaeval piety, of great executive talent, was one to make a mark in any age and one specially fitted to carry on the peculiar type of reformatory work which Ferdinand and Isabella had in mind. Ap pointed Isabella's confessor in 1492, the queen made Ximenes. 61 him the head of the Spanish Church by procuring his elevation to the see of Toledo, as has already been noted, in 1495 — a post that he accepted with great reluctance. Thenceforth his history was closely interwoven with that of the Spanish mon archy, and called for the exercise of the most varied talents. As a military commander, he gave success to the expedition against Oran, on the coast of Africa opposite Spain, in 1509. He undertook the regency of Spain on the demise of Ferdinand, and his efforts largely aided to secure the kingdom un impaired for Ferdinand's grandson, Charles. Till his death, in November, 15 17, he showed himself in everything a man of power. But it was as a purifier of the exceedingly corrupt Spanish Church that Ximenes most deserves remem brance. Chosen provincial of the Franciscans of Castile not long after becoming Isabella's confessor, he examined the monasteries of that order through out the kingdom ; and, armed with a bull which the queen obtained from Alexander VI., in 1494, he took their reform so vigorously in hand, in spite of the fact that the pope lent a sympathetic ear to protests from those whose idle peace he so rudely disturbed, that in the course of a few years, it is said, more than a thousand monks left Spain rather than submit to his strenuous discipline. Through the royal support, and Ximenes's own increased powers as archbishop of Toledo, the character of the higher clergy of Spain was greatly improved in a decade. Men of piety, strenuousness of life and disciplinary zeal took the places of the lax and the licentious. 62 l he Reformation. Ximenes strove no less earnestly, and with no less royal support, to augment the learning of the clergy. In full sympathy with the humanistic desire for education which Isabella fostered by generous pat ronage of foreign men of letters whom she invited to Spain, as well as by liberal support of Spanish scholars, Ximenes transformed the grammar school at Alcala de Henares, then two centuries old, into a generously planned university. The work, begun in 1498, was formally approved by Pope Julius II. in 1 503 or 1 504 ; and in its elaborate accomplish ment Ximenes expended a considerable part of the revenues of the archbishopric of Toledo. The ex ample thus set led to similar foundations in Seville (1509) and Toledo (1520). The " Complutensian Polyglot," already mentioned, which took its title from the Roman name of Alcala, Complutum, is, perhaps, the most important early monument of the scholastic activity thus inaugurated. The interest in the text of the Bible illustrated in this great publication was but the most striking symptom of the humanistic and theological activity that was developing in the higher Spanish seats of learning under joint sovereignty of Ferdinand and Isabella. The queen had welcomed a gifted Italian scholar, Pietro Martire (Peter Martyr), of Arona, as early as 1487 ; and his fellow-countryman, Lucio Marineo, found an equal acceptance. Antonio de Lebrija, the foremost Spanish humanist of the clos ing years of the fifteenth century, fostered the study of the classics at the University of Salamanca, and afterward, drawn thither by Ximenes, at Alcala, Theological Learning. 6$ till his death in 1522. It is characteristic of the tendency of Spanish humanism, in contrast to the religious indifference of the much more developed revival of learning in Italy, that Lebrija combined humanistic zeal for antiquity with studies in theology and labors on the "Complutensian Polyglot." From the revived scholastic life of the Spanish universities came also a revival of the theology of Aquinas, that noblest product of mediaeval Christian thought, and the rejection of nominalism and of much that the later mediaeval theology had de veloped. This return to the comparatively purer theology of the great Dominican and its realistic philosophy was begun by Francisco de Vittoria (P-I546) at Salamanca. But it was to be con tinued in augmented power by Vittoria' s pupils, the great Roman theologians of the early struggle with Protestantism, Domingo de Soto (1494-1560), of Alcala and Salamanca, the foremost dogmatician in the Council of Trent, whose scholars admiringly declared of his exposition of Christian doctrine, quiscit Sotum, sett totum ; and Melchior Cano (1523- 60), of the same universities, whose De Locis theo- logids libri XII. was to be the ablest defence of the mediaeval theological system against the Protestant attack that the sixteenth century produced. There was nothing of Protestantism in the theological movement just described, nothing that promised increased freedom for the human mind or new un- foldings of truth ; but it was a return to what had been most worthy in the middle ages, and, as such, it represented a gain for the Church. 64 The Reformation. These praiseworthy reforms, to the inauguration of which the religious zeal of Isabella and the political wisdom of Ferdinand, no less than the firmness and mediaeval piety of Ximenes, con tributed, were accompanied by the revival and reorganization of an institution congenial to the Spanish temper of the fifteenth century, but upon which the modern world looks with revulsion — the Inquisition. The reigns of Ferdinand and Isabella witnessed the conquest of the last strongholds of Mohammedanism on the Spanish peninsula. To the Spanish temper, trained by centuries of warfare with opponents of Christianity to view purity of doctrine as a patriotic virtue and to regard any who departed from traditional orthodoxy as dangerous enemies, the continued exercise of their religious rites by Jews and Moslems within Spanish territory was obnoxious. Race hatred intensified the great popular suspicion that prevailed regarding the orthodoxy of those once of these hostile faiths who had been induced by rigorous edicts to conform to Christianity. Judaism in particular was believed to be secretly spreading. Against these elements unsympathetic with the national religious life the Spanish mind could con ceive no more effective weapon than a revival of the mediaeval institution that had proved its power to suppress the Cathari of the thirteenth century. Accordingly, probably in 1478, Ferdinand and Isabella secured the consent of Pope Sixtus IV. to the establishment of an inquisitorial court, ap pointed by the sovereigns, and composed of eccle- The Inquisition. 65 siastics and laymen, thus representing political and churchly interests. The revived and intensified tribunal began its work with such vigor at Seville with the opening of the year 148 1, that, in 1482, Sixtus IV. complained of its severity, and the next year declared his readiness to receive appeals from the decisions of the royal inquisitors. Rome had, indeed, at this time little of the fanatic zeal that Spanish history had made natural to the Spanish character ; yet there can be no doubt, also, that the pope disapproved of the independence of the Span ish Inquisition from papal control and its close alliance with the crown. But, on this matter, as on many others where papal policy ran counter to their wishes, the joint sovereigns were determined ; and the same year that witnessed this second papal pro test beheld the appointment of the painfully cele brated Tomas Torquemada as grand-inquisitor for Castile and Aragon. Under him this fearful weapon of ecclesiastical and royal power was perfected. The succeeding grand-inquisitor, Diego de Deza (1498-1507), followed in the footsteps of Torque mada ; and, on his resignation, Ximenes assumed the grand-inquisitorship of Castile — an office which he administered till his death with uprightness, but with the unbending severity natural to his intense character. The Spanish Inquisition was, from the first, as much royal as ecclesiastical — its motive power was the employment of Spanish devotion to doctrinal orthodoxy as a weapon no less against the enemies of the crown than for the suppression of those of 66 The Reformation. the Church. As such, much of its confiscations went to the royal treasury. As such, too, its juris diction was extended, especially during the six teenth century, to cover a great variety of offences beside that of unorthodoxy of belief. Accusations of witchcraft naturally fell to its cognizance, certain offences against chastity brought the criminal under its jurisdiction, and so widely were its powers stretched in the royal interest that, by the time the institution had been a century established, men were punished by it for the sale of horses or ammu nition to France, with which country Spain was at war. Its sentences of death were executed by civil authority. Though there is some reason to believe that the methods of the Inquisition, cruel as they seem from a modern standpoint, were milder than those of contemporary civil law, its victims were numerous both among those against whom it was originally directed and later among Protestants, and its effect in checking all independence of thought was widely disastrous beyond the range of those who came before its bar. Its result could not be other than ultimate paralysis. Yet while the Inquisition en countered considerable opposition from the popes of the first half of the sixteenth century, and from nobles, prelates, and even some communities in Spain itself, there can be no doubt that, throughout the Reformation period, it was highly popular with the people of Spain as a whole ; and the cause of its popularity, in spite of frequent subserviency to royal tyranny, was that which renders its memory T%e Inquisition. 67 most odious to the present age — its suppression of all departures from mediaeval orthodoxy of thought. But, whatever its lights and shadows, the revival of the Spanish Church was a quickening of its religious life. It evidenced the deepening hold of religion on the people of a peninsula just awakening to the possibilities of a hitherto unimagined politi cal role on the continent of Europe and the unfold ing of a new empire in just discovered lands beyond the seas. The highest spiritual fruitage of the movement is probably to be seen in one who was as true a son of the Spanish awakening as of the land, however he may have turned toward a subserviency to the papacy such as Isabella or Ximenes never displayed — Ignatius Loyola. It was not a reforma tory movement of. profound and original creative power, or of promise for the future. It was essen tially imitative — a return to the better period of mediaeval Christianity — and, being imitative, it had not the freshness or the freedom of the pattern that it copied. Its spirit was repression of individuality, not emancipation of thought and Christian freedom. Doubtless its spread into other lands, and in some measure the intensity of its later development, were greatly aided by the rise of Protestantism, of which it was recognized at once as the most worthy foe. But the Reformation period cannot be understood without recollection of the development in Spain, before Luther began his work, of a type of churchly reform which, however inadequate in the eyes of Teutonic Europe, satisfied the Spanish people, was 68 The Reformation. approved by such leaders of the sixteenth century as the emperor Charles V. , and furnished in large measure the pattern and the impetus of the " coun ter-Reformation " which, after the struggle was over, held half of western Christendom for the ancient Church. Till after the beginning of the Saxon revolution, the reformatory movement to which attention has been directed was essentially Spanish. Yet it had sympathizers elsewhere. England was probably the land in which, next to Spain, a conservative betterment of the Church by the working together of the crown, the more earnest of the clergy and the representatives of the new learning seemed possible-. In the opening years of the sixteenth century some promise of such a movement appeared. Under Henry VIII., as early as 15 11, Parliament had taken a step which might have been the beginning of extensive administrative reforms by abolishing the ancient ecclesiastical rights of sanctuary and benefit of clergy in cases of murder ; and the young king defended this curtailment of the outworn privileges of the Church, in 15 16, with the declara tion : " We are, by God's grace, King of England, and have no superior but God." The new learning had brought the desire for a better educated clergy to the front in England as elsewhere ; and the pos sibility of converting monastic property into endow ments for education had been perceived as early as 1497, when John Alcock, bishop of Ely, secured the suppression of a Cambridge nunnery that Jesus College might be founded. As has often been Reforms Outside of Spain. 69 pointed out, it was Cardinal Wolsey who showed Henry VIII. the road he was to take regarding the monastic establishments of England ; and, could that ambitious minister's plans have been carried out, something very similar to the Spanish reform would have taken place in England before Luther had more than begun his work in Germany. But Henry VIII. was no Isabella in piety, nor was Wolsey a Ximenes either in character or under standing of the nation in which he was the first subject, nor were the English people fanatic for mediaeval orthodoxy, like those of Spain. The promise of a reformation of the Spanish type in England remained but a promise. The reformation when it came to England was to be far more radi cal, vital and deep-reaching than that of Spain ; but England in the first two decades of the sixteenth century was not ready for it. Elsewhere, too, the Spanish example found early approval. In the Netherlands, where Spanish in fluence was strong, and where the young sovereign, Charles, who was to ascend the Spanish throne in 1 5 16, was educated, considerable sympathy was felt with the movement. Such a sympathizer with its general principles was Adrian of Utrecht (1459- 1523), professor of theology at Louvain, and tutor to Charles, whom that young ruler when come to kingship appointed bishop of Tortosa in Spain, and grand-inquisitor for Aragon, Castile and Navarre, and to whom he intrusted the regency of Spain on his departure from that country in 1520. The Netherlandish teacher, in his brief and troubled 70 The Reformation. papacy as Adrian VI. (1522-23), was to bring un welcome reformatory principles to the papal curia itself. The Spanish movement had also its effect in the training of one who was to be more than any other the restorer of the. fallen papal power in Italy, Giovanni Pietro Caraffa (1476-1559), ultimately to occupy the papal throne as Paul IV. (15 55— 59)- Personally acquainted with Ximenes and brought under the influence of the Spanish churchly ten dency which that intense and masterful man repre sented, Caraffa was to contribute mightily, a quarter of a century after the Lutheran revolt, to the sup pression of Italian Protestantism and the transfer of the papacy from the control of cultivated, irre ligious, predominantly political representatives of the Italian Renascence to earnest, well-nigh fanatical, mediaevally-minded standard-bearers of the counter- Reformation. Yet, however fully earnest men of conservative tendencies might here and there sympathize with the Spanish movement and regard it as treading the most hopeful path toward general churchly reform, the fact remains that its control was still restricted to Spain at the time that Luther began his work ; and it might have run its course and spent its fires in the peninsula of its birth had it not been stimulated by the counter-tendencies of the German Reformation. CHAPTER III. THE SAXON REVOLT. |N considering the social and political con ditions antecedent to the Reformation, the universal unrest prevalent in Ger many was pointed out. The peasantry of that land were chafing under their burdens, the lesser nobility were dissatisfied with their threatened loss of lawless independence, the cities were displeased with the limitations on trade and the narrow-minded exclusiveness of their guilds and wealthy families, the greater nobility were fretted with quarrels and contests for local sover eignty, and the emperor and his counsellors were hampered by the slight respect shown to imperial authority, the difficulty in collecting imperial taxes and enforcing imperial judicial decrees. All elements in the land had some special cause for ferment ; but in regard to no evils were complaints more united than those which grew out of the oppressive administration of the Roman curia. The attempts to reform the government of the empire — little successful as they were — were accompanied by protests against papal interferences and attacks on papal taxes. At the Reichstag of 1510 a list of 71 72 The Reformation. complaints against abuses of papal administration in Germany was formulated, and the keen-eyed Italian ecclesiastic, Girolamo Aleandro (Aleander), soon to be Leo X.'s nuntius at the German im perial court, reported to the incredulous Roman authorities, in 15 16, his opinion that there would be a risfng of the Germans against the papal see if a voice was lifted against Rome. Such voices were, indeed, being heard early in the sixteenth century, but none that had as yet widely caught the public ear. The humanistic movement in Germany was taking on a more radical and anti-churchly tone. The elder German humanists, like Jakob Wimpheling (1450-15 28), the friend of schools, the opponent of monasticism and of papal usurpations, or that powerful preacher of righteousness, Johann Geiler of Strassburg (1445- 15 10), or even the satirical poet, Sebastian Brant (1457-1521), whose Narrenschiff "of 1494 most effec tively ridiculed the errors of that distraught age, were almost universally in sympathy with the Church, and laborious for its improvement in morals and learning, however keenly critical of its blemishes and sins. Such was the spirit of that leader of transalpine humanists, Johann Reuchlin (i45 5_1 522), who had no thought of rejecting mediaeval doctrine, or of seriously modifying the mediaeval ecclesiastical system. These men, like such earnest-minded bishops as Berthold of Mainz (ep. 1484-1504), Johann Dalberg of Worms (ep. 1482-1503), Albrecht of Strassburg (ep. 1478-1506), or Friedrich of Augsburg (ep. 1486-1505), who The German Humanists. 73 sympathized with their humanistic zeal, were all desirous of a reformation of the humanistic type, but were in no sense inclined to a breach with the mediaeval ecclesiastical system, whose betterment they sincerely wished. This serious-minded, churchly sympathy, char acteristic of the older German humanists, was not shared by many of the representatives of the new learning in the opening years of the sixteenth century. Restless, vain and active, though nation al and patriotic in feeling, men of whom Ulrich von Hutten (1488-1523) was a type attacked the Church, not primarily to improve its fallen state, but largely for the love of combat. These men spoke out boldly enough against the papacy and all that it represented ; but they did not appeal to the deep religious feeling of the nation, and were in capable of kindling a religious revolt from Rome, however able to add to the popular turmoil when once such a revolt was begun. But, curiously enough, one of the most retiring and least polemic of the older type of German hu manists, Johann Reuchlin, was fated to be the cen tre of a literary and theological quarrel which caused educated Germany to take opposing sides, which enlisted all the more radical humanists in Reuchlin's support, and undoubtedly helped to give occasion to the outbreak of the long-threatening religious revolution. In 1506 or 1507 a certain Johann Pfefferkorn, a convert from Judaism, was baptized at Cologne. Here he speedily distinguished him self by attacks on his former religious associates, 74 The Reformation. and won the support of the leading Dominicans, then conspicuous as the most conservative opponents of humanism in Germany, the prior of whose con vent at Cologne, Jacob van Hoogstraten (1454-1527), was inquisitor-general for the archbishoprics of Cologne, Mainz and Trier, and an influential mem ber of the theological faculty of the University of Cologne. Supported by the Dominicans and by Kunigonda, sister of the Emperor Maximilian, 1 Pfefferkorn obtained from that sovereign, in 1509, an order commanding the Jews of Germany to sur render for destruction all volumes in Hebrew de fending Judaism or attacking Christianity. Pfeffer- korn's attempted enforcement of this edict met opposition even from the German clergy. Few Christians read Hebrew ; and, after some negotia tion, the emperor asked opinions from the univer sities, from Hoogstraten, the inquisitor of the dis trict where the Jews were most numerous, and from Reuchlin, then famous as the first of Christian au thorities on Hebrew literature by reason of his Rudimenta Hebraica of 1506, as to what books to seize. Hoogstraten counselled the confiscation of the Talmud. Reuchlin, on the contrary, advised that 'only the relatively unimportant Nizachon and Tolo- doth Jeschu be prohibited. He urged the unwisdom of attacking Jewish literature generally, while that of pagan Greece and Rome was held in honor ; he had a good word to say regarding the rights of the Jews as citizens of the empire, and pleaded for in struction in Hebrew as a desirable addition to the existing university courses. It was the broad- Reuchlin Attacked. 75 minded, statesmanlike opinion of a scholar anxious to promote learning and conscious of no departure from current orthodoxy. But it traversed Pfeffer- korn's plans ; and Pfefferkorn at once attacked Reuchlin with violence as a disguised enemy of Christianity and a purchased tool of the Jews. Reuchlin replied with equal warmth in a tract en titled the Augenspiegel, and showed some modifica tion of his previous charity toward things Jewish in view of the approaching storm. He had no love for controversy, and the quarrel was none of his seeking. But now, in 15 12, the theological faculty of Cologne University condemned Reuchlin' s pamphlet and called on him to retract some of his positions. A bitter war of publication ensued ; till Hoogstraten, who as a member of the Cologne faculty had already passed unfavorably on Reuchlin's work, in his ca pacity as inquisitor, summoned Reuchlin to appear for trial at Mainz in September, 15 13. Reuchlin, supported by the archbishop of Mainz, appealed to Rome ; and, after great delay and shifting legal processes, at last, on June 20, 1520, the pope found Reuchlin's now aged Augenspiegel dangerous and too favorable to the Jews, and directed its author to keep silent on that subject of controversy. The chief significance of this bitter dispute was not in the contests of the principal actors, but in its evident division of educated and ecclesiastical Ger many into two camps. The one, the party of con servatism, led by Hoogstraten, and enjoying not merely the support of the Dominicans, but of the monks and the more ignorant of the clergy, opposed 76 The Reformation. what it deemed the dangerous innovations of Reuch lin. The other embraced the humanists of Germany and many of the more liberal of the clergy, and enjoyed the active sympathy of men of the new learning throughout Europe, who felt that, whatever the merits of the immediate question in debate be tween Reuchlin and his foes, such repression of a scholar of European fame and service as Hoogstraten attempted was a scandal. / Nor did clergy and schol ars alone divide. The Emperor Maximilian wrote to Leo X. in favor of Reuchlin, while his grandson, the later emperor, Charles V., similarly supported Hoogstraten. But the chief result for Germany was that the younger humanists spread wide the feeling that the conservative opposition to Reuchlin by the Dominicans and those generally who would most heartily support existing institutions was that of a stupid and ignorant party against representa tives of learning and progress. No weapon of in tellectual combat is so effective as this ; and the extensive diffusion of this feeling is evident in the wide approval that greeted that famous satire on monkish ignorance and conservatism, the Epistoke Obscurorum Virorum, in which, during 15 15, 15 16 and 1 5 17, several of the younger humanists, led by Crotus Rubianus and Ulrich von Hutten, attacked Reuchlin's opponents with piercing shafts of ridicule. The controversy, as a whole, did much to spread in Germany an attitude of mind open to much more radical criticisms of the existing churchly state than anything Reuchlin dreamed. Martin Luther. J J It was while this controversy was at its height that an academic protest, begun as a consequence of pastoral fidelity, by the leading monastic pro fessor in one of the youngest and most remote of the universities of Germany, roused the German na tion as with a trumpet call, because the appeal to the turmoiled age went deeper than any problem of scholarly toleration, deeper than any reformatory efforts which aimed merely at the betterment of clerical morals and education, to the profound needs of the human heart, and awoke questionings which till then had scarcely risen to conscious recognition in thousands of sincerely religious souls. Martin Luther, from whom this protest came, is one of the heroic figures not merely of the Reforma tion age, but of all history. Without him the Ref ormation would have been delayed, or might have run a vastly different course. He is one of the few men of whom it may unhesitatingly be said that he made the world other than it would have been had he not done his work. Before the towering per sonality of this leader of the Reformation age all other reformers seem relatively insignificant. He was the pioneer of the road to spiritual freedom. His power was that of an intense, almost mystical, faith in God, of a courage that counted no obstacle too great, of a leadership that rendered him a born king of men. Radical in action when he deemed that which he opposed corrupt, he was yet by nature conservative, and tore down only that he might re store to what he deemed its primitive purity that which appeared to him vital in the old. 78 The Reformation. But Luther moved the Germans the more because, in addition to these qualities which made him a leader of the race, he was a German of the Germans. Sprung from sturdy peasant stock, one with the common people by birth and training, sympathizing with their needs and feelings, intensely devoted to the land of his nativity, the virtues and the faults of his country were alike reflected in him. Short and, in later life, stout of figure ; blunt of speech, with words that struck like a bludgeon rather than pierced like a rapier ; intense in his earnestness ; devout in his inmost soul, yet with no natural inclination to asceticism ; a lover of music, of the home, of the simple pleasures of the friendly circle ; fond of talk, quick of temper, violent in passion, yet of kindly heart and devotedly loyal to his friends, Luther ap peals to his countrymen to this day as an embodi ment of that which is most characteristic in the Ger man temperament. One with his countrymen, yet above them by the strength of an intenser faith, of a deeper consciousness of God, and by the power of natural leadership, Luther is the popular hero of German history. Yet, for the reason that he was so largely a son of his Fatherland, Luther has never been so fully appreciated outside of Germany as by his fellow countrymen. Englishmen, as a rule, though recognizing the greatness of the work he did, have seldom quite comprehended the thrill of enthusiasm with which a German Protestant recalls his name. To Italians, Frenchmen or Spaniards, especially of Roman training, his character usually remains an unsolved enigma, as of one foreign to Luther's Early Years. 79 their habits of thought and traits of race. But none can deny his forcefulness, or disparage his power to mould the thoughts of men. Viewed as heretic or as restorer of the Christian faith, he commands men's attention by the might of a titanic person ality. The future reformer was born on November 10, 1483, at Eisleben, and received the name, Martin, at his baptism on the day following, in honor of the saint whom that day of baptism commemorated. Eisleben, the scene of Luther's birth and death, was not the family home. His parents, Hans and Mar- garetha (Ziegler) Luther, were hard-working, self- respecting peasant folk of Mohra, where the Luther family had long been known and still has repre sentatives, and where his father had learned the copper miner's trade. Search for work had brought them to Eisleben, and was to take them to Mans- feld when Martin was six months old ; and at Mansfeld the parents were to live in great poverty till thrift, hard work and enterprise raised them, by the time Martin was passing from boyhood to man hood, to a fair competency and to a respected place in the Mansfeld community. The father was en ergetic, and ambitious for his boy even more than for himself. The mother was earnestly religious ; and though both parents were severe in discipline, even judged by the standards of that age and the. hard conditions of a peasant miner's home, both father and mother sacrificed themselves to give to their son advantages which they themselves had not enjoyed. Luther's training in the rude school at 80 The Reformation. Mansfeld was followed, in 1497, by a year's in struction at Magdeburg; and thereafter, till 1501, by four years of excellent teaching, chiefly in the use of Latin, in his mother's native town of Eise nach, where the boy, who, like other scholars of scanty means, had been at first compelled to gain his support by singing for alms, soon found a friendly home in the house of Frau Ursula Cotta. The year 1 501 saw Luther a student at the University of Erfurt, then the most largely attended of the seats of higher learning in Germany, intent on accom plishing his father's desire that he should become a lawyer. The university was still in debate. With in its halls the new humanism was vigorously repre sented ; but the greater part of the instruction still pursued the paths marked out by scholasticism, though the Erfurt scholasticism was the critical, nominalistic philosophy of Occam, Gerson and Biel, strongly opposed to the Thomist theology by which the claims of the papacy had been most effectively furthered. But though the scholastic rather than the humanistic spirit attracted Luther, humanism had sufficiently permeated the university to incline him to read diligently the great authors of classical antiquity, who appealed to him not by the beauty of their style so much as by their pres entation of the great problems and experiences of life. A sociable, music-loving companion, he was yet a hard student ; and it was with credit that he received the Bachelor's degree in 1502 and that of Master in 1505. Religion, too, had strong hold upon the student. The work of each day he began Spiritual Awakening. 81 with prayer, and no greater satisfaction came to him in his university life than the discovery, in the university library, of a complete copy of the Scrip tures — the first he had ever seen, though portions had long been familiar through their use not only in Latin, but in German, as lessons in the Church. That Luther had not earlier encountered the entire sacred volume is not surprising. Even half a cen tury after the Bible had first been printed, it must have been regarded as costly beyond the means of a peasant household, and books were the tools of the learned rather than the companions of the many. Throughout his student life, doubtless with in creasing power toward its close, came to him the question, "How may I gain a gracious God?" It was no special sin that thus burdened Luther's soul. Judged by the standards of the time, his life at the university was wholly creditable. But he felt, as many of the most devoted servants of God of all ages have experienced, a profound sense of his own sinfulness ; and his training had led him to look upon God as a severe judge, about to condemn him to eternal damnation, and to be placated only by the utmost efforts to make reparation for all the faults of his life since baptism and to fulfil all the divine commands. Christ was, indeed, a saviour, but a saviour who obtained for the sinner a fresh opportunity for winning God's favor rather than a full redeemer from all condemnation for sin. And between the stern and exalted Judge and his sinful creatures the effective intercessors were that Chris- 82 The Reformation. tian nobility, the saints, whose prayers God heard gladly, and whose sympathy was readily given to the struggling ones on earth. Then, too, the youthful Luther, like the men of the sixteenth century generally, lived in an atmos phere charged with a sense of the immediacy of spiritual agencies, which the present age with its recognition of second causes and its belief in uni form law can hardly comprehend. Around each act or experience of life played the power of God, helpful or punitive, or the malice of the devil. The kingdoms of light and of darkness crossed arms in an eternal struggle, of which the manifestations were not inward and spiritual only, but also out ward and physical. If saints protected, witches brought evil to man and beast and blasted the hopes of the farmer with lightning and hail. Luther believed that his mother had suffered from the machinations of these agents of the devil ; in his later work he was confident of opposition from the arch fiend himself ; and this sense of the im- mediateness and reality of the contest between God and Satan was characteristic of Luther always. With the attainment of his second degree, in January, 1505, Luther's course of general intellect ual discipline was completed, and he had arrived at the point where his special preparation for his life- work must begin. In accordance with his father's wishes, he commenced the study of law ; but it was little to the taste of the spiritually burdened young man. Illness and nearness to death by accident had deepened his sense of the seriousness of life Luther a Monk. 83 during his university course ; the violent death of a companion greatly moved him soon after he began the study of law ; but his resolution to abandon the lawyer's career and to devote his life to seeking salvation was determined on July 2, 1505, six months after his reception of the Master's degree. Returning to Erfurt from Mansfeld, he was over taken by a thunder storm ; and, as a bolt struck near him, oppressed with terror for his sin-burdened soul even more than by bodily fear, he cried out to the miners' patron saint, whom he had been taught in boyhood to honor as an intercessor with a wrathful God, "Help, dear St. Anna, I will be a monk." Two weeks later, on July 17, in spite of the protests of his friends and the well-known opposition of his father, Luther fulfilled his vow by entering the convent of Augustinian Hermits at Erfurt as a novice. The monastery into which Luther was received belonged to a mendicant order which had been organized by the union of several small religious bodies through the efforts of Innocent IV. and of Alexander IV. in the thirteenth century, and was governed by a constitution erroneously supposed to be the work of its patron, St. Augustine. Having suffered from spiritual decline, like other monastic orders, a vigorous restoration of the German por tion of the society to its original strictness of life had been in progress during the later years of the fifteenth century, and a "congregation " of purified monasteries — of which that at Erfurt was one — had been formed, which, from 1460 to 1503, was ruled 84 The Reformation. by the strenuous vicar-general Andreas Proles (1429- 1503), and at the time of Luther's entrance on the monastic life was governed by Johann von Staupitz (P-I524), to whom Luther was to owe much. Strenuously mediaeval in its general conception of the way of salvation, devoted to the papacy and to the service of the Virgin, it was characteristically a studious order, and its members were encouraged to acquaint themselves not merely with later scho lastic theology, but with the Bible, the works of St. Augustine, and of the fathers generally. At the same time the order was marked by pastoral fidelity, and, in some of its members at least, by much sympathy with German mysticism such as had come to noble expression in the Rhine valley during the fourteenth century. Naturally, an order such as this enjoyed high repute in Germany, and Luther could not have entered any fraternity which would have shown him monastic life in higher spiritual attainment. Nor was there anything in the monastery which he had entered that, at first, repelled Luther's spirit. The search for an answer to that burdening question, "How can I become religious and do enough to gain a gracious God," had driven Luther into the monastery ; and the answer that the mon astery had to give was that of the middle ages at its best. By humiliations, by fastings, by labors, by constantly repeated religious exercises, by appeals to the Virgin and to his special saintly protectors, Luther sought the peace of mind for which he longed ; and his impulsive, thoroughgoing nature The Way of Salvation. 85 soon made him the most eminent in the convent for devotion to its characteristic discipline. ' ' Could ever a monk have got to heaven by monkhood," he said afterward, "I should have attained it." But the much-desired rest of spirit did not come. On the contrary, the more Luther sought for it by strictness of discipline, the more his burden of petty sins seemed to weigh him down. He feared himself deserted of God ; his reading raised griev ous questions of predestination. And had it not been for the spiritual help of his books, and espe cially of some of his associates in whom glimpses of evangelical thought were mingled with the usages of the existing system, as had often been the case in the history of the mediaeval Church, he later believed that he should then have died in horror. The writings of Bernhard, of Anselm, even of Augustine, spoke something to him of a grace that freely forgives. An aged monk impressed him with the thought that the affirmation of the Creed, "I believe .... the forgiveness of sins," was a command to believe that his own sins were par doned. The same thought of mercy brought out by Bernhard in a glowing passage enforcing on the reader that Christ died for thee comforted him. Staupitz, to whom he freely told his burdens, assured him that he did not understand Christ. "That is not Christ," he said to Luther's portrayal of the punitive Lord, ' ' for Christ does not terrify, He only consoles;" and Staupitz also made plain to him that repentance is a state of mind based not on fear, but flowing forth from love to God, rather 86 The Reformation. than a series of mental acts or exercises. But, above all, and with the encouragement of Staupitz, Luther diligently read the Scriptures, and to him they gradually showed a new answer to his question. It was characteristic of Luther that his develop ment was slow. He did not jump at conclusions; and, though he held most tenaciously to his hard- won positions when reached, he was essentially a conservative, and advanced step by step without perceiving at once the full consequences of a new conclusion. Gradually, as his study and struggle went on, he came to the conviction that these external efforts after Tightness in the sight of God were valueless ; that no possession or attainment of man gives standing before God ; and that justifica tion is a divine gift received through faith alone, the beginning of a new life, an unmerited redemp tion from the power and consequences of sin. Faith is trust in God's forgiveness, for the sake of Christ. It is the humble renunciation of all per sonal merit. Faith is itself a divine gift, a making alive of the spirit, bestowed without antecedent good works, but given that the quickened spirit may bring forth good works as its natural fruitage. What Luther did was to break away from the cur rent external conceptions of religion as an obedient conformity to a great corporate system of life and worship, and to assert the primal necessity of a new and individual relation of the heart to God, from which the Christian virtues should naturally flow. His conception would bring God and the individual sinner into a connection through Christ Justification by Faith. 87 too immediate, personal, and full of good-will on God's part to leave necessity or room for saintly intercessors. To Luther's developing thought, Christianity came to seem less and less a discipline laboriously wrought out by which a soul is gradually fitted for heaven, and more and more a new life, based on a new attitude of the soul toward God. This was a position that had appeared and re appeared in the thinking of the mystics ; and doubt less Luther derived much aid from their writings. His familiarity with Tauler's sermons is well known. But Luther was too active by nature to be wholly a mystic. It was not rest in God, not passivity in God's hands, that he pictured as the aim of the Christian life, but strenuous, active service flowing forth from the new relationship which faith estab lishes between the trusting soul and its Maker. For Luther, after he had once reached it, this doctrine of justification by faith alone by which his burden had been removed became the central doctrine of the Christian faith. He would make clearness in its apprehension the test of a rising or a falling church. Nay, he valued the books of the Scriptures themselves by the relative definiteness with which they taught it. It was slowly that Luther came to a full realiza tion of this doctrine and its consequences. First dimly apprehended, perhaps, in 1507 or 1508, when he had been two years or more an in mate of the monastery, it grew clearer to his thought year after year as he studied the Scrip tures, so that considerably before the eventful year 88 The Reformation. 1 5 17 was reached it appears with definiteness in his writings. While Luther was passing through this change of view as to the way of salvation he was rising into prominence in the order of which he was a member. In 1507 he was ordained to the priesthood. In November, 1508, by the direction of Staupitz, he left the monastery at Erfurt to take up the work of teaching in the new university which Elector Fried rich the Wise of Saxony had founded, in 1502, at Wittenberg — a town which, though the elector's place of residence, was a flat-lying, rather unhealth- ful, ill-built village of three thousand inhabitants. Wittenberg possessed an Augustinian monastery, and the university was essentially an Augustinian institution. Not having completed his theological course, Luther at first taught philosophy ; but, during 1509, he was admitted to the degree of Bachelor of Theology, which entitled the recipient to lecture on the Bible, and to that of Sententia- rius, or accredited expounder of that text -book of mediaeval theology, the Sentences of Peter Lombard. His new work at Wittenberg was scarcely begun, however, when the commands of his monastic superiors sent him back to Erfurt, where he taught in the university for a year and a half. The close of 1 5 10 saw him back in Wittenberg, which was to be his home for the rest of his life. Controversies in the order to which he belonged that were referred to the papal curia for decision led to Luther's being sent, in the autumn of 1511, on a brief mission to Rome. The warlike Julius II. Luther a Teacher. 89 was on the papal throne. Rome was in the height of its worldliness ; and though Luther saw not a little to admire in the skilful discharge of business by the papal government, his piety was shocked by much that he witnessed and heard. The old and the new were still struggling within him. He vis ited all the holy places ; he felt that masses said in the sacred city inclined God in a peculiar degree to mercy ; but as he painfully climbed the sacred stairway that was believed to be that on which Pilate showed the Son of Man to the Jewish rabble, the words of the Apostle, as he long afterward told his son Paul, rang in his ears, " The just shall live by faith." Yet it was as no Protestant that Luther left Rome. His piety was shocked, but he neither rejected the hierarchy nor its characteristic doctrines. Years afterward, when he had made the breach, the recollection of what he had seen and heard moved him to many an attack upon a system which he now still held in reverence. In October, 15 12, with the reception of the de gree of Doctor of Theology, Luther entered on the full duties of what he speedily made the most influential professorship in the Wittenberg Uni versity. It was significant of the new thoughts that were working in him that, instead of lecturing on dogmatic theology, as was customary with those who had attained the highest theologic degree, he at once began the exposition of the Scriptures, then thought to be within the competency of a Bachelor in Theology, and popularly ranked as inferior in labor and significance to the formal pres- 90 The Reformation. entation of a dogmatic system. The first theme of his comment was the Psalms. The primacy of the Scriptures in his own thought was thus early made evident ; and though as yet he had no quarrel with the mediaeval Church or with monasticism, and though his method of interpretation was still the allegorical, so beloved of the middle ages, the care ful reader of his lectures readily perceives the new thoughts of the way of salvation struggling through the scholastic terminology in which they are often clothed. The exposition of the Psalms was fol lowed, in 1 516, by that of Romans, and Galatians was next taken up — in itself a striking testimony to the course of Luther's thought. With the exam ination of Romans came a closer study of Augus tine, and, by the autumn of 15 16, a full agreement with the teachings of the great Latin father as to predestination and the total inability of the natural man to please God. These convictions not only strengthened Luther's feeling that faith is an unmerited divine gift, but convinced him that the later schoolmen like Occam and Biel, whom he had valued, were Pelagian, and, therefore, had not un derstood the Gospel. He had never had much sympathy with the older realistic schoolmen, whose philosophy had been opposed by the teaching of Erfurt in his student days. With this discrediting of his favorite schoolmen came a feeling of dislike for the philosophy of Aristotle by which most of the teaching of the middle ages had been formu lated, and these conclusions left him in a frame of mind ready to reject such parts of mediaeval theology Spiritual Growth. 91 as did not agree with his interpretation of the Scriptures. To a similar hostility toward scholas ticism Luther had won his colleagues before the Ninety-five Theses were posted. Luther's growth through these formative years was even more one in piety than in dogmatic clear ness of conviction. It was not in the class-room only that he was beginning to move men. A ser mon preached before the Saxon elector won the good-will of his prince in 15 12 ; by 15 15, the town council at Wittenberg had formally requested his regular ministrations. Whether preached to stu dents and fellow-monks in Latin or to the people in the German tongue, of which he was- master more than any contemporary, his sermons impressed men with authority and power. His pastoral zeal was scarcely less conspicuous, not only in Wittenberg, but from 1515 onward in administration of the affairs of his order as district vicar charged with the oversight of eleven monasteries. Yet because Luther's growth had been in inward and experiential conviction as to the way of salva tion rather than in dogmatic conceptions, he com bined his new consciousness of justification by faith alone, and of the supremacy of the Scriptures, with an as yet unquestioning allegiance to the hierarchy, the mediaeval system of worship, and the discipline of the monastic order of which he was a member. It was the externalism, the religious superficiality, of his time that Luther opposed as yet, rather than the system from which they sprang. But contro versy, should it arise, could not fail to show the 92 The Reformation. wider bearings of the principles which he had reached. A call to apply these principles to one of the most externalizing features of the religious life of the day, as well as to one of the worst of ecclesi astical abuses, came to him in 15 17. The doctrine of indulgences was an ancient belief. Given its classic form by Thomas Aquinas, it as serted that true penance involved contrition, con fession and satisfaction. This latter element in a proper repentance did not indeed work release from the eternal condemnation deserved by sin. That pardon God alone can give. But the evil effects of sin upon character — the temporal consequences — must be repaired by disciplinary good works done in this life or by disciplinary sufferings here or in purgatory. Yet these good works need not be per formed by the sinner himself. The Church has a treasury of good works, filled by the merits of Christ and of the saints, from which transfer can be made by the properly constituted priesthood, and especially by the pope, to the needy sinner. This transfer is effected by an indulgence, granted on such terms as those having a right to bestow it may impose, but usually on condition of the performance of some meritorious work like a pilgrimage, prayers at some place of special sanctity or during some propitious season, or a money contribution for a worthy cause such as the building of a church or a war against un believers. Such a doctrine in its purest state, when the necessity of contrition for the reception of an effec tive indulgence is strenuously asserted, is in danger Indulgences. 93 of fastening men's attention on that which is ex ternal and accidental in religion to the practical ig noring of that which is inward and spiritual. This danger, always inherent in the doctrine, had been greatly intensified by the teaching of the later school men that an imperfect contrition — that is, simple fear of punishment — was sufficient for an acceptable penance ; and for two centuries at least before the Reformation, the evils of indulgences had been aug menting by their shameless misuse. Indulgences came to be a large source from which the papal treasury was filled. Nor did popes alone employ this means of raising a revenue. The Council of Basel issued indulgences in its financial necessities. It was therefore no new method of money raising that Julius II. employed when, in 1506, he offered indulgences to those who would contribute to the rebuilding of the Church of St. Peter at Rome. The same object received the countenance of Julius's successor, Leo X. The distribution and sale — for that it practically was — of these indulgences was much like the modern trade in subscription books. Agents were given exclusive territorial rights, and appointed sub-agents ; and both were paid by com missions from the gains of their labor. So largely was the matter regarded by many strong churchmen as a financial speculation and a spiritual hindrance that Ximenes opposed the sale of these indulgences in Spain and the English government forbade the transmission of funds so derived from England to Rome. In Germany, after considerable negotiation as to his share in the income, Archbishop Albrecht 94 The Reformation. of Mainz (ep. 1514-45), obtained the right of sale for the territories of Mainz, Magdeburg and Bran denburg, and employed as his representative, from September, 15 17, onward, an experienced agent, Johann Tetzel (c. 1450-15 19). Tetzel was a thor oughly worldly and avaricious product of this great abuse. A speaker of much popular effectiveness and intent on the largest possible sales, he pictured the benefits of indulgences for the living in the most crass and external fashion, and declared regarding the dead, that as soon as the money rang in the chest, the soul sprang heavenward out of purgatorial fires. To one who, like Luther, had reached the con clusion that forgiveness of sins is conditioned on a new and inward attitude of the soul toward God, such preaching by Tetzel and others, however sanc tioned by usage, seemed the offer of a stone to those seeking the bread of life. From the summer of 1 5 16 onward, Luther warned his hearers in repeated sermons not against indulgences, but against their abuse as hostile to true inward repentance. With Tetzel's approach toward Wittenberg, in the autumn of 1 5 17, Luther determined on yet more positive opposition ; but it was no novel or unusually dra matic mode of attack that he chose. He himself had no idea of the future significance of his step. Weekly religious debates were the custom of the theological faculty at Wittenberg, initiated by the posting of theses for discussion ; and it was as carrying out this usage that at noon on October 31, 1517, the eve not only of the great festival of The Ninety-five Theses. 95 All Saints, but of the special anniversary which commemorated the dedication of the building, Luther posted on the door of the Castle Church, at Wittenberg, the famous Ninety-five Theses. Viewed in themselves, the first thought of the modern reader is one of astonishment that they should have been the spark to kindle so great a revolution. They are markedly scholastic in form and expression. They are convinced of the reality of purgatory ; they condemn those who deny the right of the pope to grant indulgences ; they are no more severe in their criticisms of the abuses of the system than the writings of Johann von Wesel (?-i48i) had been many years before. But an ex amination shows the attentive reader that many thoughts inconsistent with then current conceptions of the way of salvation struggle in them for ex pression. Penitence is a life-long state of the soul, not a penitential act. Indulgence reaches only to penalties imposed by ecclesiastical law. The truly repentant soul seeks God's discipline rather than avoids it. The real treasure of the Church is not a treasury of good works, but the Gospel of God's grace. Every Christian who feels true compunc tion for his sins has full remission of punishment as well as of guilt. Every Christian shares all the ben efits of Christ and of the Church. These were thoughts that carried to their consequences — conse quences then all unforeseen as yet by Luther — meant a wide breach with the dogmatic and hierarchic sys tem that stood behind the conceptions of which such traffic as that of Tetzel was an illustration. 96 The Reformation. Luther's theses attracted immediate attention. The hostility to the Roman curia, widespread in Germany, gave them a general hearing. Men in the most various circles — those whose piety the traffic in indulgences had shocked, the humanists, the opponents of scholastic theology, the secular authorities who looked with dissatisfaction on the revenues flowing to Rome — were glad that Luther had spoken. But to range themselves openly with him, to share his probable condemnation, was quite another matter ; and even his friends of the Witten berg faculty and convent and of Erfurt student days for the most part looked askance. Luther, though widely sympathized with in secret, stood at first almost alone. And the theses aroused power ful enemies. First of all was, of course, Tetzel — a man of some prominence in the Dominican order — who felt not merely that his traffic was threatened, but that Luther had done dishonor to the teaching of the revered theologian of the Dominicans, Thomas Aquinas. Behind Tetzel stood Conrad Wimpina (c. 1461-1531), an eminent professor at Frankfort-on-the-Oder, and, more powerful than either, a gifted teacher, who was the intellectual leader of the University of Ingolstadt, Johann Maier, generally known by the name of his birth place, Eck (1486-1543), an eminently skilful, if vain and arrogant, theological debater, of many brilliant qualities and great learning and fully im bued with the principles of the later schoolmen. With these leaders stood the Dominican order gen erally. Opposition Aroused. 97 The opposition and the danger was enough to have frightened any man not of the most steadfast courage ; but Luther held firm, and answered each of his opponents, displaying that marvellous pop ular effectiveness in controversy of which he was master, and also much of that power of invective and personal abuse in which he was, unfortunately, equally pre-eminent. But his blows told. Men re spected the bold fighter, and his own views grew clearer as his conception of the consequences of his positions enlarged. To many unthinking observers, however, the whole debate, which was rapidly arousing all theo logical Germany, seemed a monkish squabble be tween representatives of rival orders — a view to which the facts that Luther was an Augustinian while his chief opponents were Dominicans, and that these orders had long taken somewhat opposite positions on many minor theological questions, gave superficial support. This, at first, was the opinion of Leo X., and he simply directed the general of the Augustinians, in February, 15 18, to quiet Luther. But the Master of the Sacred Palace at Rome, Silvestro Mazzolini of Prieriao (Prierias), an energetic Dominican who had supported Hoog straten in opposition to Reuchlin, attacked Luther in June, 15 18, in an overbearing but carelessly writ ten pamphlet warmly defending Tetzel, asserting the infallibility of the pope, in whom the Church he declared to be virtually embodied, and affirming that whatever the Roman Church does is right. This new aspect of the discussion was extremely 98 The Reformation. distasteful to Luther. He had desired no quarrel with Rome. He had tried to believe that the pope would sympathize with his denunciations of the abuse of indulgences. In his defence of the Theses — the Resolutiones of May, 1518 — he had declared that he would submit his whole contention to Leo X., and listen to his voice as that of Christ. But now that a high official of the papal curia had come forward as his antagonist, he courageously met the new issue, and asserted, in opposition to Prie- rias's laudation of the infallibility of the pope, the infallibility of the Word of God. That the pope is virtually the Church Luther vigorously denied. In the same month in which Luther answered Prierias, on August 7, 15 18, he received a summons to appear at Rome within sixty days for trial. To go was to be condemned. But, fortunately for Luther, strong influences were exercised in his favor. His university, which now stood in sub stantial accord with his positions, pleaded for him. His sovereign, the influential elector, Friedrich the Wise, was proud of the university which was grow ing in reputation under the stimulus of Luther's rising fame in Germany, and had, moreover, op posed the sale of indulgences for the erection of St. Peter's as a burden on his subjects. The papal curia was anxious to raise a tax from Germany, os tensibly for war against the Turks, and felt that German princes and a Reichstag that freely uttered their complaints regarding papal financial imposi tions must be handled with caution if the new tax were to be secured. The result was that the Saxon Luther's Peril. 99 elector obtained for Luther the substitution of a hearing before the pope's legate, the respected Do minican commentator on Aquinas, Cardinal Thomas de Vio of Gaeta (Cajetan, 1469-1534), at the close of the Reichstag at Augsburg, in place of a trial before Prierias and other judges at Rome. Accord ingly, Luther arrived in Augsburg in October, 15 18, being received there with much curious interest and some sympathy, for the Reichstag had been free in the expression of its dissatisfaction with the finan cial administration of the papacy. But Luther's three conferences with Cajetan only widened the breach between the reformer and Rome. The Car dinal — a theologian of European repute — seems to have treated the case as one simply calling for re traction on Luther's part ; while Luther urged the authority of Scripture for his positions. Cajetan refused to receive anything but a full submission ; and Luther left the city secretly for Wittenberg lest a heretic's fate should be his. His return home was soon followed by a significant step — an appeal from the pope to a general council. Since the fourteenth century there had been theologians in abundance, like those of Paris, who had asserted the superiority of a general council over the pope. Nothing but condemnation awaited him from the papacy, even though he had appealed from Cajetan to Leo X. on his departure from Augsburg. He now turned to the other visible authority which the mediaeval Church recognized. But what chance had he of se curing a general council of Christendom ? He had small expectation that his life would be spared. 100 The Reformation. Only the uncertain favor of the but partially synu pathetic elector stood between Luther and his op. ponents ; and Luther had good reason to fear that Leo X. would speedily use the formidable weapon of interdict against all places that sheltered him. Yet his courage was unbending. "I will not turn a heretic," he wrote from Augsburg to his col league, Carlstadt, "by revoking the opinion which made me a Christian. I will rather die, be burnt, be exiled, be cursed." The same eventful month that brought Luther his summons to Rome witnessed the entrance on his professional duties at Wittenberg, on August 29, 15 18, of one whose name was thenceforth to be linked with that of Luther as a leader in the Saxon revolution, and whose services to the movement were to be scarcely less conspicuous than those of Luther himself — Philip Melanchthon. A short, slight, boyish figure of twenty-one, his first appear ance was little indicative of his strength ; but those who heard him deliver his inaugural address on the "Betterment of the Studies of Youth," that August day in Wittenberg, realized that, young as he was in years, the speaker had no living superior as a humanist, save Erasmus and Reuchlin, and that he held forth promise of service as a reformer of education greater than they. An advanced and religious-minded humanist, he sympathized with the revolt from scholastic methods already char acteristic of Wittenberg, he urged the duty of going back of the fathers to the Greek and Hebrew sources of theology, and, though not yet a re- Philip Melanchthon. 101 ligious reformer at the time of his coming, his open and impressionable mind speedily developed under the magnetism of Luther's powerful personality, by the study of the Scriptures, and in the Wittenberg atmosphere, without any severe struggle such as had come to Luther, into hearty sympathy with the Lutheran cause. Almost from the day of his arrival at Wittenberg there began that filial and fraternal relation between Luther and Melanchthon which was to last, in spite of Luther's violence of temper and certain differences of opinion, till they were parted by death. Never were two men more unlike in temperament ; but for that reason they were the more serviceable each to the other. Me lanchthon, shy, scholarly, learned, clear-minded, courteous, was the complement of the bold, im petuous, fearless, often unguarded Luther. Neither could have done the other's work ; together they did far more than either could alone. Luther him self admirably expressed the contrast between their methods in a common service : "I am rough, boisterous, stormy, and altogether warlike. I am born to fight against innumerable monsters and devils. I must remove stumps and stones, cut away thistles and thorns, and clear the wild forests ; but Master Philip comes along softly and gently, sowing and watering with joy, accord ing to the gifts which God has abundantly be stowed upon him." It was not the least of the good fortunes of the Lutheran movement that Melanchthon's coming to Wittenberg and entrance into sympathy with its ro2 The Reformation. aims placed a scholar in charge of its more impor tant publications who was speedily recognized as without a superior in learning in Europe, whom all humanists regarded as an ornament to the republic of letters, who was to be the chief organizer of the German gymnasia, the director of their curricula, the writer of the most widely used text-books for secondary instruction in his age, whose influence and counsels profoundly modified university teach ing, so that the title by which he is lovingly re membered is that of Prceceptor Germanics, and whose gifts, character and learning commanded respect alike from those who approved and those who con demned the religious doctrines that he maintained. But this fame and usefulness was only beginning when Melanchthon entered on his work at Witten berg in August, 1 518. Philip Schwartzerd was born on February 16, 1497, at Bretten, then reckoned to the Palatinate, but now a town of Baden, the son of George and Barbara (Reuter) Schwartzerd. His father, who died when Philip was but ten years of age, was an expert maker of armor. His mother, and his maternal grandmother, upon whom much of his early training came, were the niece and sister of Reuchlin. Guided by Reuchlin's advice, the boy entered the excellent classical school at Pforzheim in 1507; and, at Reuchlin's suggestion, following a custom then prevalent among scholars, he substi tuted for his German family name its Greek equiva lent, Melanchthon. The year 1509 saw the pre cocious student at the University of Heidelberg, Philip Melanchthon. 103 where, though largely self-taught, he developed great acquaintance with the Greek and Latin clas sics, a brilliant Latin style, and a good deal of facility in poetic composition. At Heidelberg he became a Bachelor of Arts in 15 11. But on the refusal of that university to graduate him Master of Arts in 1 5 12, by reason of his youth, Melanchthon removed to Tubingen, where he received the degree in January, 15 14. His second graduation ushered him into his life work as a teacher and a writer. He lectured at Tubingen on Virgil, Terence, Livy and Cicero ; he published a Greek grammar and one or two editions of Latin classics ; he read proof for the publisher, Thomas Anshelm ; he edited a universal history. Erasmus praised the young humanist in the annotations to his epoch-making edition of the New Testament. He was regarded as the most promising classical scholar in Germany. His fame brought him a call to a professorship at the University of Ingolstadt — an institution domi nated by the strong personality of Eck, much as Wittenberg was by that of Luther ; but on the advice of Reuchlin, who had no love for the Domin icans there in power, he declined it. The same friendly adviser suggested his name for Wittenberg, doubtless because of the favor there shown to the new learning, when the Saxon elector sought a professor of Greek ; and so Melanchthon, at the age of twenty-one, entered the faculty which he was to adorn till his death in 1560. The appointment was at once justified by its results. Within a year, and largely through the fame of Melanchthon's 104 The Reformation. teaching, the roll of students at Wittenberg doubled ; and this was but the beginning of the growth of the university, where this accomplished scholar taught Hebrew, Greek and Latin, rhetoric, physics and philosophy, and where, above all, from 1 5 19 onward, he expounded the Scriptures and proved himself a master in theology, though never ordained to the ministry nor willing to wear a higher scholastic degree in divinity than the primary grade of Bachelor of Theology, which he attained in September of the year just mentioned. Great was the danger in which Luther stood in the autumn of 15 18; but now, as was to be the case so often in the history of the Reformation, political considerations overbore religious interests and worked to his advantage. Through those au tumn months the enfeebled Emperor Maximilian was seeking to make certain the choice of his grand son, Charles of Spain, as his successor to the im perial throne, and the sudden death of Maximilian on January 12, 15 19, served but to perplex an in volved situation that was not relieved till Charles became, by election, Emperor Charles V. on the twenty-eighth of the following June. In this troubled time no German prince seemed more im portant for the success of the pope's endeavors to prevent too great a growth of Spanish power in Italy and to influence the German election to that end than Elector Friedrich of Saxony. Friedrich was far from being a convinced Lutheran ; but he sympathized with many of Luther's criticisms of the papacy, and was loath to see the pope stretch Papal Negotiations. 105 forth his power against a popular professor in his beloved University of Wittenberg. Such a political force was one for the pope to conciliate rather than to anger ; and hence, instead of issuing the dreaded bull of excommunication, Leo X. sent his Saxon- born chamberlain, Karl von Miltitz, with a golden rose for the elector and a diplomatic proposition for the offending monk. Though Miltitz found popu lar sympathy with Luther's criticisms of ecclesias tical abuses much more widespread than he had anticipated, for Luther's sturdy opposition was fast winning Saxony, and indeed Germany generally, to its support, his mission was measurably successful. Tetzel he largely sacrificed, repudiating his ex- tremer statements. Luther he persuaded to agree that the questions in debate should be submitted to the judgment of a German bishop, to express his dutiful recognition of the Ionian Church and of the pope as its head, to endeavor to heal the com motion by a public declaration, and to hold silence, provided his opponents would refrain from contro versy. Luther was still ready to declare himself a Roman Christian, though Miltitz failed utterly to bring him to retract his characteristic positions. Such an agreement as this of January, 15 19, was, of course, impossible of complete execution, though Luther made the public declaration, and, in March, sent a most humble letter to Leo X. Discussion could not be prevented. Eck and Luther's rash and injudicious colleague, Carlstadt, had already ar ranged a public disputation to take place at Leipzig, and Luther soon found that Eck's attack was to be 106 The Reformation. directed primarily against himself and was to in volve the authority of the papacy. Luther, there fore, declined to appear before the archbishop of Trier, as had been agreed with Miltitz, and armed himself by vigorous historical study for the new contest. In this study, carried on amid the daily labors of the class-room, the publication of his lec tures on the Psalms and the preparation of his Com mentary on Galatians, Luther came to the conclu sion that the supremacy of the papacy was a doctrine of comparatively recent origin ; that the Church, not its officers, is the seat of ecclesiastical power ; and that the Church is the communion of saints, the whole number of Christian believers, rather than the hierarchy. These conclusions mark a radical advance in Luther's thought, the far- reaching consequences of which the Leipzig dispu tation was first to make plain to him. On June 24, 15 19, the Wittenberg champion, Carlstadt, accompanied by Luther, Melanchthon, Nikolaus von Amsdorf (1483-1565), Johann Agri- cola, Luther's secretary (1494?-! 566), and some two hundred friendly Wittenberg students entered Leip zig, whither the fame of the contest had attracted many visitors. On June 27 the debate began, be fore Duke Georg of Saxony, in a great hall of the Pleissenburg, the subject discussed being that of free will. Carlstadt did himself no credit. As a debater he was no match for Eck, and the latter felt that victory was with him as, on July 4, 15 19, he began the far more important discussion with Luther on the papacy. Eck was no mean contro- The Leipzig Disputation. 107 versialist. His purpose was to force Luther to the open adoption of positions hitherto universally recognized as heretical, to show him to the world as a heretic, and hence to bring upon him general con demnation. And, from his point of view, Eck was conspicuously successful. Luther had already af firmed in theses preparatory to the debate that the superiority of the Roman Church over all others was a recent doctrine, contrary to the Scriptures and to the decrees of the Council of Nicaea. He was now led on to declare that, in condemning the views of Huss regarding the Church, the Council of Constance had condemned truth. This, though but the logi cal outcome of the direction in which Luther's thoughts had been moving, was a most radical utterance. Men had denied the superiority of the pope over a general council and remained good Catholics ; but this denial was far more. To reject at once the authority of the papacy and of general councils was to break with the whole mediaeval hierarchical system. It left the sole ulti mate authority the Scriptures ; and, moreover, the Scriptures interpreted by private judgment, since it was in reliance on the sufficiency of his own private judgment that Luther decided that that ultimate interpreter of doctrine, as the middle ages believed — a general council — had erred. And Luther's position was as bold as Eck's strategy was keen ; for the council whose decision he had rejected was that honored Council of Con stance, held on German soil and under a German emperor, and the opinion he had approved was that to8 The Reformation. of Huss, whose memory, however respected in Bohemia, was then regarded in Saxony with utmost aversion. No wonder Eck declared that one so heretical as to admit that a general council could err was to him a heathen and a publican. Eck believed victory to be his, and that all he needed to do to secure its fruits was to crystallize the results of Leipzig in the papal bull of condemnation which in January, 1 520, he went to Rome to procure. But the real result was far other than Eck imagined. The Leipzig dispute freed Luther from all remaining attachment to the mediaeval hierarchi cal system ; it led, furthermore, to an alliance between Luther and the younger humanists like Crotus and Hutten, from whom he had hitherto held aloof. The contest still seemed to him vitally and essentially a religious question ; but it assumed far larger proportions in his eyes. It was no longer a battle for the repression of certain abuses and the toleration of certain views of the way of salvation within the Roman Church ; it rose on Luther's vision as a gigantic national struggle for freedom from the papacy and all that that institution repre sented — a revolution in which the nation should cast off the fetters which had bound its religious life for centuries. And for this view he found abundant sympathizers. There was much, indeed, in the political situation as well as in the religious condition of Germany to make such a revolutionary effort seem timely. To the chronic unrest already spoken of had been added the excitement of an election in which the Luther s New Attitude. 109 kings of Spain, of France, and even of England, had put themselves forward as candidates for the vacant imperial throne. The choice had fallen, while Eck and Carlstadt were opening the debate at Leipzig, on Charles. Lord already of Spain, of Spain's possessions in Italy and America, of the Netherlands and of the territories of the house of Austria, the youth of nineteen thus raised to the most august if not the most powerful throne in Christendom seemed to have possibilities before him such as had come to no ruler since Charle magne. Might he not put himself at the head of a great movement to throw off the yoke from which, as it seemed to Luther, Christendom had long suffered ? Might he not be moved to oppose a pope that had tried to defeat his own election and advance the interests of his rival, King Francis I. of France ? Under him might not Germany take on a fuller national life ? These were natural hopes at the time. Charles was little known. But could Luther have looked within the firm and forceful spirit that was hid behind the pale face of the young emperor he would have found little to encourage him. Charles was, indeed, a reformer ; but it was of the Spanish type of his grandmother Isabella of Castile. He could see in Luther nothing but a heretic. And to his keen governmental sense it seemed that the political unity of the unlike lands over which fate had made him ruler demanded unity in religion. In 15 19 and 1520, however, this rev elation of character was still largely in the future, and Luther with many another in Germany felt HO The Reformation. that infinite possibilities lay in the newly inaugu rated reign. Luther's development after the Leipzig disputa tion was rapid. Convinced from the Scriptures and the history of the Greek Church that subjection to the papacy was no necessary condition of the Church's existence, and that Christ is the Church's only head, he now reached the conclusion that the Church, properly speaking, is the invisible com munion of believers, and that its presence is evi denced not by subjection to a visible government, but by the presence of baptism, the Lord's Supper and the preaching of the Gospel. At the same time the Scriptural test led him to question the doctrine of purgatory, and to reject the Roman enumeration of the Sacraments as seven. He came now to a full appreciation of the work of Huss, with whom he was surprised to find himself largely in sympathy. Melanchthon, . too, during these months had advanced to the position that the Scriptures are the test of the truth of the fathers and councils, not the fathers and councils the infal lible interpreters of the Word of God, and, apply ing this test, had come to reject some of the most characteristic Roman doctrines such as transubstan- tiation. Strengthened thus by the sympathy of his colleagues, by the active support of Hutten and the younger humanists, and by the ever-rising favor of the people of Germany, Luther was emboldened to meet the pope's bull which rumor said was soon to be launched against him by three powerful revolu tionary treatises which belong to the most impor tant monuments of the Reformation age. Three Great Tracts. in The first of these pamphlets, written in June and July, 1520, and entitled An den christlichen Adel deutscher Nation : von des christlichen Standes Bes- serung, is a fiery appeal to the German princes to take the reformation of the German Church into their own hands, and a vindication of the rights of the laity in the Church against the claims of the hierarchy. As with a trumpet-call, Luther voices the years-long rankling sense of the injustice of the papal government in its dealings with Germany, and summons the lay leaders to the assumption of their rights as Christians and to the purification of the Church. In the strongest language he asserts the priesthood of all believers, the first of the " Roman walls " to be overthrown being the distinction be tween the " spiritual " and the " temporal " estates. "All Christians," he declares, "are truly of the spiritual estate, and there is no difference among them, save of office alone." Religious things are the province of no one order of society. No less clearly does he assert the supremacy of the Scrip tures over all interpretations or commands of those in ecclesiastical authority. It is evident that so tre mendous and radical a document must have met answer in thousands who had not yet found expres sion, or its very vehemence would have robbed it of its force. But it is much more than a mere criticism of existing abuses. It presents a programme for ac tion. Temporal concerns belong to temporal rulers ; a German national church should be guided by the primate of Germany; ministers should be chosen by the communities that they serve ; priestly celi- 1 1 2 The Reformation. bacy should be no longer required ; burdensome festivals should be reduced in number ; the univer sities reformed ; mendicant monasticism should be restricted ; limitation of beggary and proper care of the poor should be secured. Written in German, by a master of controversial appeal and invective, under the impulse of a burning conviction of the truth of his cause, no wonder that four thousand copies were sold within a few days of its publication in August, 1520, and that it soon ran the length and breadth of the land. Two months later Luther followed this flaming revolutionary brand with an equally radical presen tation of his doctrinal criticisms of Rome ; this time in Latin, and designed for more scholarly eyes — the De Captivitate Babylonica Ecclesice Prceludium. That captivity is the bondage of the Church through the mediaeval interpretation and multiplication of the sacraments. Confirmation, orders, unction and mat rimony are not sacraments at all. That title be longs only to baptism, the Lord's Supper and pen ance ; and penance is a "return to baptism" — a renewal of the faith to which baptism witnesses — rather than a "second plank after shipwreck." Sacraments in themselves are not works of value, there is no opus operatum quality in them. They are the divine promises to us of the remission of sins, and hence their benefit is to be received by faith. The Supper is no sacrifice ; freedom should be allowed to the laity to partake of the cup as well as of the bread ; and Luther clearly exhibits his preference for the view of Christ's presence, later Three Great Tracts. 1 1 3 known as consubstantiation, to which nominalistic theology had already inclined, though he would grant freedom to any who preferred the theory of transubstantiation which Aquinas had made classic in the Roman Church. The Address to the German Nobles had dealt chiefly with abuses of ecclesiastical administration. The Babylonish Captivity was con cerned with matters of doctrine. But they were doctrines of immense practical importance that his radical discussion touched. Luther's treatment of the Lord's Supper and of orders, for example, at tacked the whole Roman theory of propitiatory masses offered to God by a priest possessing spiritual powers that no layman could share. It challenged not merely the most central act of Roman public worship, but the very existence of a priesthood as distinguished from a ministry. It affirmed that preaching is the prime ministerial duty, and " that the sacrament of orders can be nothing else than a ceremony for choosing preachers in the Church. It is illustrative of the deep, spiritual springs of Luther's stormy life during these autumn months of 1520, that, after he knew that the pope's bull against him had been issued, he wrote in German and in Latin the calm, almost mystical, exposition of his faith which appeared in November of that year — the De Libertate Christiana. To it, at the request of Miltitz, who still hoped for a reconcilia tion, Luther prefixed a letter to Leo X., expressing great personal respect for the pope, but unqualified aversion to the Roman curia. " I have always grieved," wrote he, " that you, most excellent Leo, 1 1 4 The Reformation. who were worthy of a better age, have been made pontiff in this. For the Roman court is not worthy of you and those like you, but of Satan himself, who, in truth, is more the ruler in that Babylon than you are." In the tract itself Luther lays down the paradox of Christian experience : "A Christian man is the most free lord of all and subject to none ; a Christian man is the most dutiful servant of all and subject to every one." He is free in the inward man because justified by faith, no longer judged by the law, given the power to serve God, and so united in spiritual marriage to Christ that Christ's life and salvation are his, making him a king and a priest unto God. He is a servant in the outward man through love, because he must bring his body into subjection to his regenerated spirit and aid his fellow-men. As a servant he does good works ; but they are no part of the price of his salvation, they are its consequences. " Good works do not make a good man, but a good man does good works." "A Christian man does not live in himself, but in Christ and in his neighbor, or else is no Christian ; in Christ by faith, in his neighbor by love." When this tract was written the pope's ban against Luther had reached Germany. Prepared by Eck, Cajetan, Aleander, Prierias, and others, it con demned forty-one statements of Luther, and gave him sixty days in which to recant, on penalty of treatment as an obstinate heretic. All who had Luther's books were ordered to cease their use and the obnoxious publications were to be publicly burned. Any place where he might stay was threat- The Papal Bull. 115 ened with the prohibition of all religious services. All adherents of the Church were ordered to arrest Luther and his followers and send them to Rome. To Eck, as papal nuncio, was given the task of pub lishing the bull in north Germany. No more un fortunate choice could have been made ; for, to many in Germany, it seemed like peculiar and un warranted vindictiveness that a theological disputant should thus follow up an open opponent in public debate. Nor did Eck have much success in Saxony. Luther's work had told. In Mainz, Cologne, Lou- vain, and, nearer by, in Ingolstadt, Merseburg, Meissen and Brandenburg the bull was duly pub lished ; but at Leipzig the students tore it from the walls, and at Erfurt and Wittenberg the universities refused its publication. Aleander presented the bull to Elector Friedrich the Wise at Cologne and urged its enforcement upon him ; but Erasmus, whom he consulted, so little approved the bull that the elector, believing that Luther had not had an adequate hear ing, paid no further heed to Aleander's entreaties, and Luther continued to enjoy the favor of his princely protector. Emboldened by these evidences of support and aroused by the burning of his own writings in sev eral German cities, Luther and his friends soon after took the most dramatic and popularly impressive method of manifesting their separation from the papacy and their rejection of the ecclesiastical sys tem of which it was the head. On December 10, 1520, at a formally announced time and place in Wittenberg, and with the consenting presence of 1 1 6 The Reformation. his colleagues and pupils, Luther burned the pope's bull, the papal decretals and the canon law. This step had the approval of the people of the region as a whole, and was not opposed by the local authori ties. It was evident, therefore, that a considerable section of Germany was in open rebellion against the papacy, and that this rebellion had won wide sym pathy ; how wide no man could say. Such a state of affairs could not fail to demand official cognizance at the next session of the Reichstag, for it touched the foundations of the imperial constitution. That Reichstag, the first to be held under the presidency of Charles V., opened at Worms on Jan uary 28, 152 1. Its tasks were manifold. The prob lems of internal politics raised by a new reign had to be adjusted, the administration demanded revision by the new ruler ; above all, preparation had to be made for the great war with France which all men knew that the ambitions of the youthful Charles V. and Francis I., no less than the rivalry between France and Spain for the control of Italy, rendered inevitable — a rivalry that had begun in 1494, and was to affect the whole Reformation age. But greater than any of these important questions in the interest which it excited was the disposition to be made of Luther. The papal nuncio repre sented that as Luther had already been declared a heretic by the pope, the only duty of the Reichstag was to enforce the bull which had called on all Christians to arrest Luther and send him to Rome. To many of the members of the Reichstag, on the contrary, the papal demand appeared an undue in- Luther at Worms. 117 terference with the rights of the empire, and Luther seemed never to have been adequately heard by his ecclesiastical judges in his own defence ; they sym pathized with his criticisms of the papal administra tion and believed that he might, if brought before the Reichstag, retract his extremer attacks on the divine establishment of the papacy and the in fallibility of the councils while serving as an agent to correct the more flagrant abuses of the papal gov ernment. Between the two views the young em peror wavered, not doubting that Luther was a damnable heretic, but willing to make some use of him as a whip to force the pope to support the Spanish side in the politics of the day, and to pre vent papal interference with the Spanish Inquisi tion, or even to secure an improvement in German ecclesiastical conditions similar to that effected by Ferdinand, Isabella and Ximenes in the Spanish peninsula. Finally, on March 6, 1521, as a great concession to one already pronounced a heretic, an imperial command and promise of safe-conduct sum moned Luther to appear before the Reichstag. It was understood that no debate was to be allowed, but that the accused might declare in what measure he still maintained the positions advanced in his books. To Luther the summons was a call to face a great ordeal ; but the journey, though not without much personal danger, was made almost triumphal by the hearty good-will of the common people and of not a few of the authorities. On April 16 he was in Worms, and on the afternoon of the next day he 1 1 8 The Reformation. appeared before the Reichstag. The emperor's representative pointed to a row of books and in quired if they were his and whether he would re tract their contents. Luther acknowledged their authorship ; but the question of recantation was so momentous and the occasion so awe-inspiring, that he asked time to consider his reply. A day was granted ; and, on April 18, Luther again faced the Reichstag. With firmness he now declared that, though some things had been expressed with too great heat, he could retract nothing unless its falsity was demonstrated to him from the Scriptures. His questioner pointed out that his views were those of Wiclif and Huss, whom the Council of Constance had condemned, and pressed for a plain declaration as to whether or no he submitted to the authority of that revered assembly. Luther replied in the memorable words : " Unless I am refuted by Scriptural testi monies or by clear arguments — for I believe neither the pope nor the councils alone, since it is clear that they have often erred and contradicted one another • — I am conquered by the passages of Scripture which I have cited, and my conscience is bound in the Word of God. I cannot and will not recant anything, since it is unsafe and dangerous to act against con science." A moment of excitement followed in the Reichs tag. The emperor and his Spanish followers were scarcely able to believe that any human being could have the temerity to affirm that councils could err ; and in the confusion it is probable that Luther cried out the words always associated with this event: " Here I stand. God help me ! Amen." Luther at Worms. 1 1 9 The scene was one of the few great dramatic moments of history. Accustomed as is the modern Protestant to free expression of individual convic tion, it is easy for him to overlook the significance and the courage of Luther's declaration. His affirmation of belief, Luther well knew, would prob ably bring him a death of excruciating agony. But fear of the stake was the least of the barriers that he overcame at Worms. Could he shake off the subtle hold of more than a millennium of ecclesiasti cal tradition ? Was he sure enough of himself to affirm that his own conscientious conviction of the truth of God was more to be relied on than the declarations of the great representative gatherings of Christendom which men generally believed to have spoken by the power of the Holy Ghost? Could he reject interpretations of Scripture sanc tioned by the fathers, the doctors and the popes, and search for himself unhindered the meaning of that Word of God in which they and he saw the final authority? And could he, the peasant's son, with all the awe of those in rank and authority characteristic of his race and age, maintain this independence in the face of an august assembly of the temporal and spiritual rulers of his nation ? To half the Christian world the attitude of Luther speaks to this day but of wilful obstinacy and preference of selfish opinion to the wisdom of the visible Church ; but to those who have entered into the spirit of Protestantism it stands forth a heroic declaration of spiritual and mental independence, born of fidelity to God in the use of powers divinely 120 The Reformation. entrusted to every thinking man, and pointing out the pathway to that freedom necessary not only for the highest intellectual attainment, but for the noblest religious development of mankind. As men's opinions are still divided regarding the rightfulness of Luther's position, so the impression that he made on those present at Worms was diverse. Charles V., with his Spanish and Italian companions, was distinctly repelled. The Germans felt more sympathy. Some of their nobility ex pressed open approval, and among the common people favor to Luther was very general. Most important of all, his appearance before the Reichs tag augmented that determination on the part of Elector Friedrich the Wise not to see him hastily condemned which had been his bulwark thus far. But Luther's positions were so radically revolution ary of existing institutions and so opposed to the common view of the infallibility of councils that no other result was to be expected than a condemna- tory declaration. Such an act, the Edict of Worms, declaring Luther an outlaw to be seized for punish ment by the emperor, was drafted by Aleander and signed by Charles V. on May 26, 1521 ; though its signature was not obtained till a number of the more influential nobles had left Worms, and its enactment was not regularly voted by the Reichstag. Had Germany been as unified administratively as contemporary France, England or Spain, it would have gone hard with Luther. A few weeks at most would have seen his execution. But the empire was so loose a confederacy that imperial laws could Condemned and Protected. 121 not be enforced where they were unpopular, and the emperor's hands were burdened by the great military struggle which lay immediately before him. The month that witnessed the signing of the Edict of Worms saw a treaty of political alliance between pope and emperor, and the withdrawal of the French ambassador from the imperial court. The war for the mastery of Italy began. Insurrections in Spain compelled Charles V. to go to that land ; and not till 1530 was he free to return to Germany and risk the diminution of his military strength by vigorous interference in its religious disputes. This struggle tied the emperor's hands and gave the Reformation opportunity to take firm root in Ger man soil. This outcome of events was still concealed behind the veil of the future when Luther left Worms under the protection of the imperial safe-conduct on April 26, 1521 — a month before the edict against him was signed. Aleander believed that he would seek protection among the Hussites of Bohemia. But Friedrich the Wise had determined, with Luther's approval, to place him in concealment till the course of events was more clear, and therefore the elector had Luther seized by trusty agents as he journeyed homeward and carried to the Wartburg near Eisenach. By many it was believed that Lu ther had been murdered ; by very few was it known where he really was, and few even of his daily com panions in the castle suspected that the figure clad in knightly garb was that of the monk whom the Edict of Worms proclaimed an outlawed heretic. 122 The Reformation. Luther's sojourn in this " Patmos," as he styled it, marked the beginning of a more constructive period in his career than that which culminated at Worms, though its principles were much the same. Several vigorous controversial pamphlets showed to the world that he still lived ; but his concealment in the Wartburg is chiefly memorable for his trans lation of the New Testament, begun in December, 1 52 1, completed in three months, and issued from the press in the following September. The trans lation of the Old Testament was gradually accom plished by Luther and his associates after his return from the Wartburg to Wittenberg, and the whole Bible in Luther's version was published in 1534, by which time no less than eighty-five editions of his New Testament had been put forth. As has been pointed out in an earlier chapter, Luther was far from being the first to translate the Scriptures into German. No less than eighteen times had the whole Bible already been printed in German or Dutch, but the earlier translation was mechanical and followed the Vulgate rather than the Greek and Hebrew. It was Luther's distinction as a translator to be a master of the German tongue such as none before him had been. As he expressed it, he made the apostles and prophets speak German ; and in so doing he not only laid a foundation for the up building of a constructive German Protestantism, but he exalted the Saxon dialect as moulded by him into the standard of German speech. Judged by modern canons of accuracy, Luther's version was very free. Perhaps its most peculiar boldness— a Luther s New Testament. liberty justly rebuked by his opponents at the time — was his endeavor to render what he believed to be the meaning of Paul more plain by the insertion of the word "alone" into Romans iii. 28; but none can deny his striking abilities as a translator, or the great impetus not merely toward a popular acquaintance with the Bible, but toward Evangelical conceptions of Christianity which his translation gave. The protection of Luther by the elector and the continued tolerance of his views at Wittenberg put electoral Saxony into spiritual rebellion against Rome. Wittenberg, led by Carlstadt, Amsdorf, Melanchthon, Johann Bugenhagen (1485-1558) and Justus Jonas (1493-15 5 5), was wholly committed to the movement, and made two remarkable contribu tions to its development during Luther's sojourn at the Wartburg. The first of these contributions was a theological treatise by Melanchthon, the Loci Communes Rerum Theologicarum, completed while Luther was at Worms and published in December, 1521 — a treat ise which made the author, then twenty-four years of age, the theological leader of the German Ref ormation. Fresh and unscholastic in treatment, .finding the final authority in the Scriptures, and their interpreter in Paul, it passed lightly over such topics as the being and nature of God in this earli est of its many editions, and dwelt on the questions in debate with Rome. It held that acquaintance with the facts of Christ's life and work is not saving faith. Faith is a confident assurance that 124 The Reformation. Christ died for my sins and has made me alive. Faith alone justifies, because it unites us to Christ. Where faith is the Spirit of God dwells, and good works are consequently done. There are but two sacraments, Baptism and the Supper ; which are not in themselves means of justification, but are wit nesses of the divine mercy toward us. Unlike his later position, but in accordance with what was always Luther's view, and in opposition to the semi-Pelagianism of the current scholastic theology, Melanchthon in this first edition presented extreme predestinarian conceptions. Constantly republished, and often worked over and modified in statement as Melanchthon' s views developed, it remained for half a century after his death the main text-book of Lutheran theology, and it must always be regarded as one of the most important monuments of the Reformation. A second step was taken in the development of the movement at Wittenberg during Luther's ab sence. External alterations in churchly life and practice were begun, especially under the leadership of Luther's elder colleague, the impulsive and injudicious Carlstadt. No changes in worship had been effected by Luther ; but now on October 13, 1 52 1, private masses were abolished in the Augus tinian convent at Wittenberg, and on January I, 1522, Carlstadt introduced the reformed communion into the town church. Twenty-four days later the town council approved the change. The alterations thus begun, though speedily much developed and modified, were formative, for they abolished the Ferment at Wittenberg. 125 sacrificial features of the mass, they gave to preach ing a central position in the service, and they offered the communion both in bread and wine to all. But much more radical changes were also at tempted. The agitation of the previous months had stirred uneasy Germany deeply. At Zwickau the pastor, Thomas Munzer (c. 1490-1525), a man of mystic temperament and socialistic impulses, had come into association with radicals led by Nikolaus Storch, a weaver, and Marx Thom'a Stubner, a former Wittenberg student, and stimulated prob ably by Hussite influences among the working people of the town. These men believed the end of the world was near, that infant baptism was to be abandoned since children could not exercise faith, that God revealed himself in present visions and prophetic inspirations which had a higher authority than the letter of the Bible, and that the old religious and social order must at once be done away. They represented the more radical mani festations which every great popular ferment is sure to arouse. Many things that they sought were real reforms, more were fanatic, and all were vastly more turmoiling than anything that Luther had proposed. To them Luther was but a half-hearted reformer. The coming of Storch and Stubner to Wittenberg just after Christmas, 1521, and the arrival of Munzer a little later, but increased the existing ferment. Carlstadt welcomed them, Melanchthon hardly knew what to think, while Amsdorf was powerless. Many monks had already left the Wittenberg monastery. I26 The Reformation. Carlstadt now married, and declared that, far from encouraging celibacy, the Scriptures required the clergy to marry. In company with the Zwickau "prophets," Carlstadt began to condemn learning and to advise the university students to take up manual labor, on the ground that the wisdom of God was hid from the learned and revealed to the ignorant. Pictures and images were destroyed, in fant baptism declared as worthless as the baptism of a cat, and monasticism a peril to the soul. Mean while, in the Castle Church, to which Luther had affixed his theses, the old Roman order of worship continued. Wittenberg was a storm centre. The elector and the magistrates were powerless. Luther, from his retreat at the Wartburg, had not been unobservant of the turmoil ; and now, in March, 1522, in spite of the personal peril which such a step involved, he determined to abandon all concealment and return to Wittenberg. No clearer demonstra tion of his power as a leader of men could have been given than what followed. By eight days of preach ing he altered the whole situation. The Gospel, he declared, taught sin, forgiveness and love to one's neighbor. The principle last named had been violated by the rash and forcible changes which Wittenberg had witnessed, though some of the alter ations, especially in worship, Luther maintained. The Zwickau "prophets" left town, Carlstadt lost his influence, though he was later to be a force in Thuringia, and ultimately to find a resting-place in Zwinglian Switzerland. Luther was unquestion ably master of the Saxon movement. But the first Luther the Master. 1 27 division in the anti-Roman forces had taken place — ¦ a division that was doubtless unavoidable, but was none the less ominous. There were now a radical and a conservative wing among the opponents of Rome, and Luther had chosen the conservative side. By the time of Luther's return to Wittenberg, Evangelical views were becoming influential in many parts of Germany beside electoral Saxony. Many of his brother Augustinians and not a few from other orders warmly preached his doctrines. Within two years of that return, influential imperial cities such as Strassburg, Ulm, Nuremberg, Magdeburg, Bremen and Hamburg were powerfully drawn to the Evan gelical faith by the preaching of sympathizers with the Wittenberg movement or disciples of Luther ; and, more important even than these conquests, the rulers of Hesse, Prussia, and, in a less open degree, the heads of several other north German states, had shown a favor toward Luther's views that gave promise that northern Germany as a whole would speedily be dominated by the new movement — a promise that was destined to substantial realization. This rapid crystallization of the Evangelical sym pathizers into a dominant party and the freedom with which Luther labored at Wittenberg, though under the official condemnation of the empire, were largely made possible by the course of European politics. The emperor and the pope alike were unable effectively to interfere in German affairs. Charles V., though anxious to execute the Edict of Worms, was taxed to his utmost strength by the war with France and the internal politics of Spain. 128 The Reformation. Nor was the might of the papacy less lamed for the time being. Leo X. had died in December, 1521, and had been followed by that earnest-minded re former of the Spanish type, Charles's tutor and statesman, Adrian of Utrecht, as Adrian VI. (1522- 23). Adrian, though strongly opposed to Luther, looked upon the Lutheran rebellion as a divine chastisement for the corruptions of the Church, and felt the necessity of a reform which should begin first of all with the Roman curia. But nothing could have been less to the mind of the cardinals by whom he was surrounded, and his brief pontificate was paralyzed, as far as all effective interference in Germany was concerned, by fruitless struggles with the officials of his court. A less reformatory pope would have aided the papal cause far more at this juncture. Under these circumstances it is not to be wondered that successive Reichstags at Nurem berg in 1522-23 and 1524 made no effective efforts to enforce the Edict of Worms. But they went much farther; that of 1522-23 demanding a general coun cil, pending the assembling of which the preaching of the Gospel might continue, and that of 1524 calling a German national council to meet at Speier— a council which the emperor had power enough to prevent. With the accession of Giulio de' Medici as Clem ent VII. (pope 1523-34) to the papacy, a more systematic opposition to the further spread of Lutheranism began. The skilful Cardinal Lorenzo Campegi (1474-1539), Clement's legate in Germany, anxious to consolidate the Roman forces, secured a Lutheranism Opposed. 1 29 meeting of the emperor's brother, Ferdinand, the dukes of Bavaria and many bishops from southern Germany at Regensburg in June and July, 1524, atv which a league to oppose Lutheranism was organ ized, and a churchly reformation far less thorough than that of Spain, but somewhat after the Spanish model, was begun. Churchly taxes were diminished, churchly holidays somewhat reduced in number, and the dukes of Bavaria were given certain rights of control over the clergy of their territories. The movement thus begun was of great political and re ligious importance. It was the practical break-up of all unity in the internal politics of the empire — ¦ north and south Germany go different ways. It secured southern Germany for the Roman Church, and it marked the beginning, however feebly, of that attempt to meet the Lutheran revolt by reforms of the most glaring ecclesiastical abuses to which the name counter-Reformation is usually given ; though, in using that convenient name, it should always be borne in mind that the counter-Reforma tion as it ultimately developed stood for much more than mere opposition to Evangelicalism, and that the springs of churchly purification lay back in such reformatory desires as had already found expression in Spain, however they may have been quickened by the Lutheran revolt. Even more important than this Regensburg con vention in putting a limit to the spread of Luther anism and in dividing Germany into two camps was the great peasant uprising in western and southern Germany in 1524 and 1525. The oppression and the 130 The Reformation. industrial unrest of the peasants have already been pointed out ; and it has been noted that to many radical men whom the Saxon religious revolt awoke or stimulated, like Carlstadt, Munzer, or Stubner, Luther seemed but a half-way reformer. The inflam mable state of the lower orders, especially in that part of Germany where near-by Swiss freedom served as a reminder that better conditions were possible, was undoubtedly wrought upon by the Lutheran movement. As that revolutionary impulse reached the peasantry through the radical preachers, it be came a call to a recreation not merely of the Church, but of society. That this was so was no fault of Luther. Conservative by nature* he deprecated all that seemed opposition to constituted authorities as fully as he opposed the religious radicalism of a Munzer or a Carlstadt. Luther would have the Reformation an orderly withdrawal from Roman abuses, as he deemed them. To him it was purely a religious reform. The social order he would not touch. In the vicinity of Wittenberg, where his influence was potent, he held the movement to his ideal ; but it was far beyond the power of any one man, however gifted, to control it throughout Ger many. By the close of 1524, Swabiawas in com motion, the peasants having generally risen, and through the early months of 1525 the insurrection spread throughout southwestern Germany and in vaded Thuringia. Judged from a modern stand point, the wishes of the great majority of the peas ants seem very reasonable. They asserted the right to choose their own pastors, they demanded the The Peasant Revolt. 131 abolition of forced labor, they sought freedom to hunt, fish and take fuel from the forests, they urged the modification or abolition of the more oppressive feudal taxes, and their Evangelical impulse is mani fest in their willingness that all their demands should be tried by the Word of God. To grant these de sires would have been, however, to have altered the existing social constitution of Germany, and the nobles almost everywhere opposed. And a consider able minority of the peasants, led by such visionary fanatics as Munzer, were ready to go vastly farther, and attempt the forcible destruction of castles and monasteries and the introduction of a reign of com-, pulsory equality. Luther's position, in the face of this tremendous rebellion, was most trying. Himself a peasant's son, his strong conviction that the con stituted civil authorities must be supported, or the causes of order and religion alike would perish, made him an opponent of those with whom he might nat urally have sympathized. As the contest went on he passed from an advocate of arbitration as a settle ment of the questions in dispute to a bitter de nouncer of the whole insurrection. He appealed to the nobles to root it out by the sword. Such an" appeal was not needed to incite the German no bility. From the first the nobles, especially the lesser nobles of the Rhine valley, had shown them selves hostile to the peasants, and in April, May and June, 1525, the peasant insurrection was put down with frightful cruelty. Probably a hundred and fifty thousand men lost their lives, and the peasantry emerged from the ill-managed struggle in a worse 132 The Reformation. condition than ever. Luther really had little direct influence either on the beginning or the end of the struggle ; but the peasant war profoundly affected the Evangelical Reformation. On the one hand, Luther lost much of his hold on the common peo ple, especially of the regions where the rising had taken place, by reason of his hostility of the peas antry ; and on the other, many of the upper and x middle classes looked upon the peasant rising as the natural fruitage of Lutheranism — a fruitage which Luther's savage antagonism to the movement did not suffice to prevent their ascribing to his preach ing. Thus the Lutheran cause received a check in southern Germany, and the division of the land on the problems which the Saxon revolt had raised was increased. The work of Campegi, begun at Re gensburg in 1524, was given a powerful impulse. Nor was the peasant war the only trial through which Luther had to pass during the years 1524 and 1525. Erasmus, never cordially Luther's sup porter, attacked Luther's Augustinian conceptions of the inability of the human will in the autumn of 1524; and in December, 1525, Luther replied to his famous critic with an extreme assertion of the bond age of mankind, of the absoluteness of the divine predestination, and of the twofold aspect of the will of God, secret and revealed, offering salvation to all, but working effectively to the salvation of a part only of the human race. This controversy was a symptom rather than the cause of the sepa ration of the humanists from the Lutheran move ment. Many, like Wilibald Pirkheimer of Nurem- Luther s Marriage. 133 berg or Crotus Rubianus of Erfurt, who had at first welcomed Luther, withdrew from all affiliation with him and returned to the ancient Church. They had little sympathy with the primarily religious character which Luther was imparting to the revolt from Rome, and they feared the consequences of his breach with time-honored ecclesiastical institutions," however little they might respect those institutions themselves. It is easy to condemn such men ; but such condemnation is not wholly just. Without the religious conviction of a Luther on the one side or of an Eck on the other, they saw the faults in the Roman Church and the crudities in the Evangelical movement. They sympathized fully with neither ; but, on the whole, they swung back to that which had the sanction of time as involving no uncertain ties and as well known in all its faults and merits. It is probable that another event which made these years of the peasant war a time of alienation from the Lutheran cause was Luther's marriage. Doubtless that protest against the Roman doctrine of clerical celibacy was ultimately an advantage to the Evangelical cause ; and Luther's most genial side appears in his home life. But his sudden marriage to a former nun, Katharina von Bora, on June 13, 1525, was a great shock to many who had not so torn themselves free from the teachings of the Roman Church as had he. To ascribe to a desire to marry any share in inducing Luther's revolt from Rome is, however, an absurdity. His marriage was almost unpremeditated, and his breach with the papacy had been effected years before any 134 The Reformation. thought of possible marriage had been entertained. Yet this union of a monk and a nun seemed to many to give point to Erasmus's bitter jest, that the Reformation, which had at first appeared a tragedy, was in reality a comedy, the end of which was a wedding. But while the middle of the third decade of the sixteenth century was thus a time of trial for the cause of the Saxon reformers, they were greatly aided by the course of European politics, and espe cially by the action of Pope Clement VII., whose policy was controlled more by his interests as an Italian sovereign than as head of the Roman Church. Several years of undecisive warfare be tween Charles of Germany and Spain and Francis of France, in which the prize was the control of Italy, ended suddenly on February 24, 1525, in a signal French defeat near Pavia, in which Francis himself was captured and his army swept away. Till this decisive victory the emperor's hands had been tied, so that effective interference in the re ligious concerns of Germany was impossible. That victory greatly aided in the repression of the peasant rising in May and June, 1525 ; and it seemed to leave the emperor free to put an end to Lutheran ism and enforce the Edict of Worms against Luther himself, as he had long desired. It seemed also to make Spain dominant on the Italian peninsula. All these results appeared to be securely confirmed by the humiliating treaty which the captive French king accepted under oath at Madrid in January, 1526; and Charles was not slow in intimating his Charles and Francis. 135 desire to the princes of Germany that more active measures be taken to stifle the Lutheran movement. So threatening appeared the situation in view of the victory at Pavia and the reaction which followed the repression of the peasants, that Philip of Hesse, and Johann, who had succeeded Friedrich the Wise as elector of Saxony in May, 1525, formed the first Evangelical defensive union in November of the year just named — a league which was further per fected in February, 1526, and was joined in June following by the dukes of Brunswick and Mecklen burg, by the rulers of Anhalt and Mansfeld and the city of Magdeburg. This association is generally styled the League of Torgau. In spite of this defensive union, however, it would have gone hard with the Evangelical cause had Charles now been able to put forth his strength as he anticipated. But now Clement VII., dreading the supremacy of the Spaniards in Italy, and anxious to renew the old attempt to secure the independence of the Italian princes by balancing the rival powers of France and Spain, absolved Francis from his oath; and in May, 1526, entered into a "holy league" at Cognac with France, Milan, Venice and Florence, supported by the sym pathy of England, to repress the threatening power of Charles V. The victory of Pavia was rendered barren ; war was on again, and the pope was its instigator. An imperial army composed of Span iards and Italians, and a great number of German troops of Lutheran sympathies, stormed Rome on May 6, 1527. The scene of plunder, torture and 136 The Reformation. destruction that followed rendered the sack of the papal capital memorable even among the brutal sieges of the sixteenth century. The pope was mocked, the churches and monasteries plundered, the inhabitants maltreated in every conceivable manner. Rome never recovered. Its agony marked the end of the gay, easy-going, artistic, pleasure- loving Rome of the Renascence. The way was made ready for the sombre, ecclesiastical Rome of the counter-Reformation. The effect of the altered political situation was immediately felt in Germany. In spite of the ex press instructions of the emperor and the presence of a Catholic majority, the Reichstag that met at Speier in June, 1526, adopted an indefinitely worded resolution to the effect that, pending the meeting of an ecclesiastical council, each of the constituent elements of the empire should so act as it might trust to answer before God and the emperor. This important resolution was intended as a mere modus vivendi ; but the council did not meet till 1542, the emperor's hands were tied for several years after 1526, and the Evangelical party soon came to interpret this action of the Reichstag at Speier as a legal authorization that each German territory should order its religious affairs as its local rulers saw fit. The thought that the civil rulers must reform the Church was not peculiar to the Evangelical Refor mation. In some degree it was common property throughout Christendom at the beginning of the six teenth century. Ever since the great papal schism State Ecclesiastical Control. 137 had threatened to divide Europe into national churches, the purification of the Church by local rulers had seemed to many the most hopeful method of reform. That method had been employed in Spain with marked success. But the situation in Germany favored a much more radical application of the plan of reform by magisterial interference than any Cath olic country had witnessed. The hostile attitude of the bishops toward the new movement showed that the new church constitution, in Germany at least, could not be introduced by the existing ecclesiasti cal authorities. Who was there, then, who could reorganize the Church in a given territory but the civil rulers of that territory ; and did not the doc trine of the universal priesthood of believers point to them as those to effect the change, since they were, of all the Church, those most conspicuously possessed of the power to do so by reason of their worldly authority, while their spiritual right to do so was as great as that of any Christian anywhere ? Yet it was not at all Luther's original thought that the civil authorities should be the permanent ad ministrators of ecclesiastical affairs. Their inter vention was due to the exigency of the situation. The Church itself, he held, is the community of believers. It has its local existence in the loca> community. As such, the community should ap point ministers who should exercise the universal priestly office in its name. Their appointment by the community was, strictly speaking, their all-suf ficient authorization without ceremonial ordination. The community should excommunicate. The sac- 138 The Reformation. raments belonged to the community. But Luther had no genius for organization. He was frightened by the excesses which seemed to follow where the common people were not wisely led, and by 1526 he had come to feel that the only safe method of effecting reform was to rest it, for the time at least, in the strong hands of the civil rulers. A great many local alterations in the order of worship had taken place since 1522, and here and there some modification of the ecclesiastical consti tution had been attempted ; but now, after the Reichstag of Speier in 1526, the work of organizing churches on a territorial scale was taken in hand by the princes and cities of Evangelical sympathies. Luther and the reformers generally held fast to the principle that in any sovereign territory only one form of worship should be tolerated; hence this work at once divided non-Roman Germany into a group of territorial churches, coterminous with its political subdivisions. By October, 1526, Philip of Hesse had summoned a convention representative of his territory at Hom- burg, in which the French reformer, a former Fran ciscan monk of Avignon, and later student at Wit tenberg, Frangois Lambert (1486-15 30), was the leading spirit. As a consequence of this conven tion, a commission led by Lambert prepared an ecclesiastical constitution for Hesse that contained many features of later Congregationalism and Pres- byterianism. Congregations of professed Christian believers were to be gathered from out the inhab itants of each parish, who should choose their own Territorial Churches. 139 pastors and deacons. These local communions of believers should be represented each by its pastor and an elected delegate in an annual Hessian synod, of which the landgrave and the nobles should also be members. By this synod visitors who should see to the good order of the churches should be chosen ; and a standing committee should be elected which should consider cases of ecclesiastical impor tance and difficulty. This constitution, could it have been carried into operation, would have made the story of German Protestantism far other than it was actually to be. It would have given the people a real share in church government. Nor is there anything in the larger features of Lambert's plan inconsistent with Luther's earlier views of church constitution — as illustrated, for instance, in his letter to the govern ment of Prague in 1523. But, by 1526, the peasant war and the more radical revolutionists had fright ened Luther and the more conservative reformers. He advised against the adoption of Lambert's plan as impracticable, and the scheme was never put in practice. Instead, the ecclesiastical reformation of electoral Saxony became the general model for the organization of the territorial churches of northern Germany. Could Luther have had it so, he would have been glad to see the alteration of the Saxon ecclesiastical constitution effected by the bishops. Melanchthon was even more disposed to favor episcopal control where it might be retained. In spiritual powers, Luther, Melanchthon, and the continental reformers 14° The Reformation. universally, held that all ministers are equal ; but they were not averse to recognize administrative distinctions of human appointment, and Melanch thon was even willing to admit such a limited supe riority as belonging to the papacy. But no German bishops at this time, save two in far-off Prussia proper, favored the new doctrines. Luther was afraid to trust a popular constitution, like that pro posed by Lambert. Saxony was in great religious confusion, the church lands were being seized by grasping nobles, congregations and schools were neglected. Something must be done ; and to Lu ther it seemed that it must be done by the civil authorities as bishops by force of necessity. Some steps of importance toward an ecclesiastical reorganization had been taken in Saxony before the Reichstag of Speier. It has already been pointed out that Luther disapproved the rash introduction of changes in worship by Carlstadt in 1521 and 1522, though holding many of the alterations to be desirable in themselves. But by 1523 he was heartily supporting very considerable modifications of the older service, including the omission of the " canon," or sacrificial portion, of the mass, and had prepared and issued a form for baptism in the German tongue. In 1524, at Wittenberg and Erfurt, small collections of hymns, many of them of Luther's own composition or translation, were issued, and the share of the congregation, as a whole, in the public worship of song, which is one of the glories of Lutheranism, may be said to have been Jecured. In January, 1526, Luther's formative Liturgical Changes. 141 Deutsche Messe, or order of public worship in Ger man, was published. This liturgical directory, which was widely determinative of the form of churchly services throughout northern Germany, retained much of the old order and ceremony of the mass, rejecting' its sacrificial elements, and translat ing it into the common tongue, but gave large place to the sermon as an exposition of the Word of God, and to popular participation in song. Luther was too much a believer in Christian lib erty to insist on one order of worship everywhere, and the Lutheran churches followed his example with much freedom and local variations in the different states ; but the great principles of worship in the vernacular, of preaching, and of common song he made characteristic of them all. Luther's disposition, as has been often pointed out, was fundamentally conservative, and his conservatism is nowhere more apparent than in his treatment of public worship. He altered as little as possible. As for vestments, candles, crucifixes and pictures, he regarded them as things indifferent, to be used if not superstitiously abused. In wide distinction from the reformers of Switzerland, he held all allowable in the worship of God that express Bibli cal precept did not seem to forbid ; and in this the churches of northern Germany followed him. But while Luther and his associates were making these modifications, the need of some vigorous con trol over the chaotic religious state of Saxony was more and more evident. Contemporaneously with the publication of his Deutsche Messe, Luther per- 142 The Reformation. suaded the new elector of Saxony, Johann (1525- 32), to order an experimental visitation, or gov ernmental examination and regulation, of a small portion of Saxony. But it was not till after the Reichstag of Speier had passed its significant vote that anything like a general regulation of Saxon ecclesiastical interests was attempted. Determined on by the elector in 1527, Melanchthon prepared elaborate instructions for the visitatorial commis sions who were to examine and regulate the affairs of the various districts into which Saxony was divided. These instructions provided for an in vestigation into the character and abilities of the ministers in the several parishes, they set forth a system of doctrine which was to be taught through out the land, they regulated public worship, they pro vided for the maintenance and order of the curricula of schools. Their most peculiar constitutional feature was probably the establishment, as inter mediate between the prince and the local ministry, of Superattendentes (Superintendents), each in charge of a district and responsible for the teaching and character of its pastors. The office was evidently that of the former bishop viewed purely in its administrative functions. Former rights of patron age and appointment to church-livings were not disturbed. The people gained no greater share in church government than they had possessed before. Under these instructions, Saxony was " visited" in 1528 and 1529 by commissions armed with authority of the elector, and its Evangelical churchly consti tution established. But the most notable spiritual The Saxon Visitation. 143 monuments of this effort to reconstruct the shattered Church on Evangelical lines are to be seen in the two noble Catechisms which Luther prepared in 1529. The smaller Catechism in particular, ex pounding to the simplest comprehension the Com mandments, the Apostles' Creed, the Lord's Prayer, Baptism and the Supper, is one of the masterpieces of Christian instruction, and remains to this day not merely one of the most popular of catechisms, but one of the confessional bases of the Lutheran churches. The Saxon visitation became, with local modifica tions, the model for all the Evangelical states of northern Germany ; and its system of control by the territorial sovereign became the normal type of Lutheran church organization. The Saxon consti tution was modified in detail in the course of a few years, notably by the addition, in 1538 and 1539, to the superintendents of "consistories" of jurists and theologians for the adjudication of more difficult ecclesiastical problems ; but its essential features were developed in the years immediately following the Reichstag at Speier in 1526. Naturally, such visible modifications of the es tablished constitution of important German terri tories could not take place without intensifying feeling between the two dominant religious parties in Germany ; but the political situation was much embittered by an event of the year 1528. Philip of Hesse, deceived by Otto von Pack, a prominent official of the court of still Catholic ducal Saxony, was induced to believe that a league of Roman ad- 144 The Reformation. herents had been formed for the forcible suppression of Lutheranism and the partition of the Lutheran lands. The document which Pack sold to the land grave as a copy of the alleged compact of the foes of the new doctrines was an arrant, and it would seem almost a transparent, forgery ; but Philip and the Saxon elector, no less than Luther, thought it genuine, and Philip determined to anticipate the at tack, though Luther urged that an appeal to arms was justifiable only as a means of defence. The falsity of the alleged conspiracy was made manifest before the German states had become fully involved in civil war, but the escape was a narrow one, and the episode not merely increased existing tension between the parties, but placed the Lutherans in the unfortunate light of being ready to begin an ag gressive war upon neighbors from whose religious fellowship they had but recently separated. Moreover, as the early months of 1529 passed, it became evident that the renewed struggle of the French for the control of Italy would be no more successful than that which ended for the time at Pavia in 1525. The premonitions of imperial success were evident which were to lead to peace between Charles V. and the pope at Barcelona on June 29, 1529, and between Charles and his rival, Francis I., at Cambrai, on August 5 of the same year — in both instances to the great credit of the young emperor. It was plain, therefore, to all men when a new Reichstag met at Speier, in February, 1529, that Charles was in all probability soon to be freer to in terfere in the internal affairs of Germany than he Protestants. 145 had been since the Edict of Worms had placed Luther under the ban of the empire. His atti tude of hostility to the Evangelical movement was well known. And recent events in Germany which have been narrated had much intensified the feeling and drawn more sharply the line of demarkation be tween the adherents and the opponents of Rome. It was speedily evident not merely that the Roman party had a decided majority in the Reichstag of 1529, but that that majority was determined to use its power. The resolution of the Reichstag of 1526, under which the Lutheran territorial churches had been organized, was declared to have been mis understood, all further alterations in religious mat ters were forbidden, and the rights, authority and revenues of all spiritual officers were to be recog nized. This decision would have been not merely a limitation of the further progress of the Evangel ical movement ; it involved a practical restoration of the Roman authority and worship in lands where they had been rejected. And, therefore, on April 19, 1529, the Evangelical minority at Speier deter mined on a protest against these decisions — a pro test that was put in legal form on April 25, and that has fixed the name Protestant forever upon the op ponents of Rome. To this protest the approval of Johann, elector of Saxony, Philip of Hesse, Georg of Brandenburg, Ernst of Luneburg, and Wolfgang of Anhalt was given, and with them stood fourteen imperial cities — Strassburg, Nuremberg, Ulm, Con stance, Lindau, Memmingen, Kempten, Nordlin- gen, Heilbronn, Reutlingen, Isny, St. Gall, Weis- 146 The Reformation. senburg and Windsheim. It was a notable and formidable union of central territories of northern Germany with influential cities of southern Ger many, and the two elements together gave the protest great significance and strength. Yet it was evident that the Evangelical cause stood in sorer peril than at any time since the Reichstag at Worms ; and, therefore, as a measure of precaution against probable attack, the elector of Saxony and the landgrave of Hesse, on April 22, entered into a secret league of defence with three ¦powerful southern cities, Strassburg, Ulm and Nu remberg. If ever there was a time when the powers of Protestantism needed to present a united front to the rising storm of conflict it was now. Yet at this supreme moment of peril, the new league was broken and the conservative forces of European Protestantism split into two separate and largely discordant parties by the obtrusion of doctrinal differences regarding the nature of Christ's presence in the Supper, and by Luther's insistence that no union with those who, like the Protestants of Strass burg, had embraced a view differing from the Lu theran on this question could be permitted. It would be too much to affirm that the results of this cleavage have ceased to be felt even now, when more than three centuries and a half have elapsed since the division. To comprehend its significance, it is necessary to turn aside from the story of the Saxon revolt to that of the development of a con temporary religious revolution in German-speaking Switzerland. CHAPTER TV. THE REVOLT IN GERMAN SWITZERLAND. HOUGH nominally a part of the Holy Roman Empire, Switzerland had long been a group of independent republics. However arbitrary and aristocratic its cantonal magistracies might be, it dif fered from the German prince-ruled states in that its divisions owned no local lords. Its constitutions were, therefore, democratic and popular as compared with anything to be seen in Germany outside of the imperial cities. As a whole, Switzerland was a poor land. The hardy population won a scanty living from its mountain-sides. The industrial develop ment of the country was yet in the future. But the Swiss cities, though small, were the seats of a well- to-do citizenship ; and, beyond other non-Italian towns, several of them had welcomed the revival of learning. Erasmus, for instance, found a home and a publisher in Basel. And Switzerland at the be ginning of the sixteenth century had a strong claim upon the attention of its neighbors. The Swiss in fantry was reputed the most steadfast in Europe ; and the European wars of conquest which began i47 148 The Reformation. with the French expedition against Naples, in 1494, not only brought the sons of Switzerland into great demand as mercenary soldiers, but the efforts of the contestants in the struggle for Italy, especially of France and the papacy, to secure the services of these much-prized troops brought a considerable in flux of money into Switzerland, and led to the pay ment of many foreign pensions to Swiss of influence throughout the early years of the sixteenth century. This foreign service gave wide acquaintance with the world ; but it was undoubtedly demoralizing in high degree to the young men of the land. Yet so great were its rewards that it was looked upon with much favor by a large portion of the population. For various causes, some of which have been in timated, the hold of the Roman Church upon a considerable section of the people of Switzerland had been weakened by the beginning of the six teenth century. The political constitution of the land made it peculiarly favorable to the rise of a religious revolution. By reason of their small terri torial extent and their autonomy, the Swiss cantons were peculiarly open to the influence of local leaders. To induce a board of magistrates or a council to sanction a change was a far simpler thing than to move a prince who was the head of an extensive state ; and hence Switzerland presented a field where, if reformatory effort was begun, it might be radical and speedy in its manifestations. The po litical training of the land, moreover, was sure to render any reformation more democratic than in Germany. Ulrich Zwingll. 149 The beginnings of the revolt in German Switzer land were as much bound up in the development of a life as were those of the Saxon revolution. The Swiss leader was not, indeed, of the towering per sonality of Luther. In a measure his later work was made possible by that of the greater German. But he well deserves a place among the four or five master-spirits to whom the Reformation was most conspicuously indebted. Ulrich Zwingli was born of a family of some local prominence, though of peasant rank, in the little vil lage of Wildhaus, in the present canton of St. Gall, on January 1, 1484, being thus only a few weeks younger than Luther. His parents, who seem to have been excellent people, early determined to give the boy an education, and a paternal uncle, Barthomaus Zwingli, dean of Wesen, took him to his own home and provided for his earliest schooling. At ten years of age he was placed in the excellent school kept by Gregovius Biinzli at Basel, from which he passed, in 1498, to the instruction of the most eminent humanistic scholar then in Switzer land, Heinrich Wolflin of Berne. Two years of this training in the new learning was followed by an equal period of classical study at the University of Vienna, from which he returned to Basel to teach Latin and to study philosophy. The theological lectures of Thomas Wyttenbach (1472-1 526), with their criticisms of indulgences, their assertion of the centrality of faith in Christ's atonement for all for giveness, and their insistence on a return from scholastic theology to the fathers and the Bible, 150 The Reformation. greatly impressed the young teacher, and supple mented along congenial lines the humanistic trend of his education. Here, at Basel, Zwingli took the degree of Master of Philosophy in 1 506. He was in full sympathy with the new learning, and inclined, like all humanists, to go back to the grand classics of religious truth as well as to the classics of litera ture for that which was really authoritative. Like Luther, he was proficient in music, and an agreeable companion. But, unlike Luther, he had not passed through deep searchings of soul as to his own per sonal justification. That was never to be his ex perience. To Luther the question, " How may I gain a gracious God ?" was the first of all questions. Its answer was the test of a standing or a falling Church. In comparison with its right answer, all other problems of doctrine or of organization were relatively unimportant. To Zwingli the first of all questions was less personal. It was rather the purity of the Church, its doctrines, its worship, its organization as tested by that primal classic char ter, the Scriptures. Both reformers reached similar results in many — but by no means all — things ; but their methods of approach were somewhat unlike, owing to diversities of natural genius and training. This want of a tempestuous spiritual experience, such as Luther had, has often been treated as if it were a reproach to Zwingli, but most unjustly. It is true that his early ministry had not the moral earnestness or the moral purity that Luther showed ; but no one can question his sincerity, his zeal, or his spiritual power from the time that his real work as a reformer was begun. Ulrich Zwingli. 151 At the time of his attainment of the Master's degree in 1506, however, the reformer had not yet appeared in Zwingli, and he stood forth simply a somewhat religiously inclined young humanist, sympathetic with the usual humanistic criticisms of the evils of the Church and the humanistic sugges tions for its betterment. This was his attitude when, late in 1506, he became the parish priest at Glarus. Here he zealously studied the Latin clas sics, and taught himself Greek that he might read the New Testament. Here, after a time, he began a correspondence with that prince of humanists, Erasmus, whom he visited in 1 5 1 5. From here he accompanied the Swiss troops as chaplain on several Italian campaigns, probably those of 1512, 1513, and 151 5 — campaigns on which he witnessed severe fighting and which strengthened his sense of the moral dangers that they involved for the young men of Switzerland, and his patriotic determination to do his part to prevent the foreign alliances that called his parishioners so far from their homes. Here he, like many of the clergy of his age and country, fell into some breaches of his vow of chastity, yet without losing the good-will of his congregation as a whole. Here his oratorical skill and his patriotism gained him a considerable repu tation throughout northern Switzerland, and his pastorate seems to have run its course without serious disturbance till the rising hostility of the French party, whose employment of Swiss merce naries he opposed, emboldened as it was by the French victory at Marignano, induced him to re- 152 The Reformation. move from Glarus to Einsiedeln in 15 16, without, however, resigning his Glarus charge, to which he planned ultimately to return. Einsiedeln is to this day a famous pilgrim-shrine ; and the young minister, brought thus in daily con tact with one of the most characteristic and least Scriptural manifestations of mediaeval piety, doubt less grew rapidly in his conviction of the manifold unlikeness of the Church as it existed to the indica tions of its character discernible in the Bible, which he already looked upon as the sole standard. In deed, Zwingli himself, in later years, looked back upon his Einsiedeln ministry as already of a re formatory character ; so that some have reckoned his work earlier than that of Luther. This is un doubtedly to give it a positive character that it did not yet possess. Zwingli was rapidly thinking him self free along the line which humanism had marked out and under the impulse of constant study of the Scriptures ; but he did not yet feel the personal call to be a leader in reform, and he drew his in come in considerable part from fees for masses for the living and the dead, for confessions, and from a papal pension which he had received about 15 15 and was to hold till 1520. His real reformatory work was to begin after his entrance of a larger field of activity at Zurich. Zwingli's call to the most eminent pastoral posi tion in Zurich came in December, 15 18, partly by reason of his fame as a preacher, but even more on account of the agreement of his patriotic political views with those of the anti-French party, of which Zwingli at Zurich. 153 Zurich was the stronghold. The little city of seven thousand inhabitants was the most eminent in Swit zerland through its political influence and wealth, and Zwingli at once took a position of leadership in its affairs. It was illustrative of his attitude toward the Bible that with the opening of his pastorate he began the exposition of the Gospel of Matthew as a whole instead of following the usual lessons. A preacher of ethical and spiritual power, his pastoral zeal during the ravages of a pestilence, which swept away a third of the inhabitants of Zurich in the summer of 15 19, endeared him to the people, while his own near approach to death by the dreaded dis ease developed his spiritual nature. Luther's doc trines were being discussed, in Switzerland as in Germany, and though Zwingli's development had been independent of Luther, Lutheran thoughts necessarily made much impression upon him. But though Zwingli's politics and his preaching brought him many enemies, some of whom charged him with being a thorough Lutheran, his breach with the ancient Church did not come till the spring of 1522, when he rejected the Lenten fast as an ordi nance of man without Scriptural support. Reproved by the bishop of Constance, to whose diocese Zurich belonged, and by the Zurich city government, Zwingli defended his position in his first printed tract, Von erkiesen und fryheit der spy sen ; and, when that publication led to further efforts by his bishop to silence him, he put forth his more elaborate Archeteles, in which he entered into a much wider criticism of Roman usages and asserted 154 The Reformation. the superior authority of Scripture. The battle was now fully begun. In the summer following the beginning of this discussion, Zwingli took a further step in opposition to existing usages. Ten priests joined with him in petitions to their bishop and to the representatives of the Swiss cantons praying that the Gospel might freely be preached and priestly marriage permitted. At the time of this petition, or shortly after, Zwingli was no longer a celibate priest, for, some time in the year 1522, he contracted a marriage with a widow two years his senior, Anna Reinhart by name — a connection which he did not acknowledge openly till April, 1524. To them four children were born, of whom two grew to maturity and attained honorable positions in the Zurich community. Such events could not take place without deeply stirring not only the town of Zwingli's ministry, but all the region ; and the Zurich burgomaster and councils, uncertain what attitude to take, resorted to what had long been a favorite method of ascer taining the truth with universities and learned bodies, but was comparatively novel in the vernac ular and before a popular audience — a public debate. It is significant of the departure from mediaeval con ceptions which had already been effected at Zurich that these civil rulers laid down as a condition-prece dent to the discussion that its arguments must be drawn from the Bible. In preparation for the event, Zwingli published sixty-seven theses, asserting the sole authority of the Scriptures and their independ ence of all churchly sanction, declaring the Church Public Debates. 155 to be the association of believers and Christ their immediate head, affirming salvation to be by faith, rejecting all mediatorship but that of Christ, urging clerical marriage, arguing that confession is properly a consultation as to one's spiritual state, not a means for the forgiveness of sins, and casting aside as unscriptural required fastings, purgatory and works of satisfaction. Zwingli asserted in these theses most positively the divine authority of civil rulers, and the duty of obedience to their behests ; but it is interesting to observe that in this first ex tensive statement of faith he qualifies that obedi ence as due only "in so far as they command noth ing contrary to God." That was the note, struck yet more loudly by Calvin, that was clearer than any other to be the call to popular freedom wherever the Swiss Reformation extended. That principle it was, more than any other, which translated the in tellectual individualism of the Renascence and the spiritual individualism of the Reformation into po litical freedom. For it placed in the hands of every thinking man a test, personal to himself, of the rightfulness of any statute or ordinance of king or magistrate : Did it conform to the Word of God, not as doctors or councils may have interpreted that Word, but as he understood it ? The right to ask that question drew with it consequences far beyond the dream of those who first promulgated it, for it taught the common man not only that he might criticise the acts of his rulers by a standard higher than their will, but that it was his duty so to criti cise, and to resist if, thus judged, their acts were 156 The Reformation. found wanting. Yet the far-reaching results of this principle were not conceivably in Zwingli's thought when the great debate for which these theses were prepared took place before the magistrates and clergy of the canton of Zurich, and some men of prominence from neighboring towns, on January 29, 1523. Here Zwingli triumphed, in the estimate of his hearers, over his opponent, Johann Faber, vicar of Constance, who represented the bishop of the diocese. The magistrates gave their approval to Zwingli and his work. This victory led at once to considerable modifica tions of public worship, and also, a few months after, to a mob attack on images, which, though congenial to Zwingli's strict interpretation of the second commandment of the Hebrew Decalogue, was far too lawless in method to meet his approval. As a consequence, the use of images and the continu ance of the mass were debated in a second public disputation in October, 1523. Though the image- breakers were punished, popular feeling against such aids to worship was intensified. At the request of the civil rulers of Zurich, Zwingli now issued a little manual of religious instruction, Ein kurz christen- liche Ynleitung, which was placed by the authorities in the hands of every priest of the canton, and sent to a number of the adjacent bishops and civil gov ernments. In spite of protests by the bishop of Constance, to whose diocese Ziirich had belonged, and by the representatives of the Swiss cantons gathered in their Diet, against the changes which had already taken place at Zurich, pictures, cru- Radical Alterations. 157 cifixes and images were removed from the city churches in June, 1524, relics were buried, holy water was done away with, organs silenced, and frescoed walls whitewashed as an effective method of making a tabula rasa of the symbols of the older worship. These acts Zwingli defended as an aboli tion of idolatry in a reply to Zurich's critics put forth in the following August. Such changes were naturally followed by exten sive alterations in public services. Zwingli had already given great prominence to the sermon. At Easter-tide, in 1525, the new communion took the place of the mass ; the communicants sitting at tables, the men on the one side, the women on the other. A liturgy prepared by Zwingli was intro duced at this communion, which became the model for similar services throughout Switzerland and southern Germany. In the language of the people, like the Deutsche Messe, which Luther put forth nine months later, it departed much more from the Roman order than did the Wittenberg formula ; but its most peculiar feature was the substitution of the responsive reading by minister, men and women, of the Creed and the Gloria for any service of song. Save in these responses at the Supper, the people were given no audible share in the new worship. This rejection of singing was not charac teristic of the Zwinglian churches, as a whole, how ever ; though it was to continue at Zurich till 1598. With the revolution of the communion service came its restriction to four administrations yearly, and the reduction of all days of sacred observance to 158 The Reformation. Sundays, Christmas, Good Friday, Easter and Pen tecost. The emptying of the churches of all deco ration that seemed to Zwingli and his associates to savor of idolatry, the extreme simplification of the services, the rejection of saints' days, and the prominence given to the Bible and the sermon, imparted to the Swiss churches from the first that unadorned and severely intellectual character and form of worship which has been the heritage of the Reformed Churches of France, Holland and the Rhine valley, the Presbyterians of Scotland, the Puritans of England and their offspring in America • — all of whom trace no inconsiderable part of their spiritual ancestry back to the Swiss revolution. Contemporaneously with these events the eccle siastical constitution of Zurich was transformed. In December, 1524, the suppression of the monas teries began. Regulations for joint care of the poor by the ministry and the state and for the establishment of hospitals were adopted in 1525; and a considerable portion of the confiscated eccle siastical property was employed for this use, as well as for the establishment of schools, chief of which was a theological seminary — the Carolinum — opened in June, 1525. The desire for an educated ministry found thus an early manifestation in the Swiss reform movement. The authority of the bishop of Constance was ignored and practically rejected from the beginning of Zwingli's reformatory efforts, and in his stead the civil magistrates of the canton took the place of authority in appointing ministers and regulating ecclesiastical affairs. Yet their most Reorganization of the Church. 159 influential adviser was Zwingli as long as he lived, and his successors in the pastorate of the chief Zurich church — for example, Heinrich Bullinger — were looked upon as the spiritual leaders of the canton. And Zwingli secured the addition, in 1528, to the ecclesiastical constitution of Zurich of a body representative both of Church and State — the synod — embracing every minister of the canton, two lay men from each of its parishes, and eight representa tives of the government. To this synod, rather than to the civil magistrates, immediate oversight of doctrine and morals was committed. In its consti tution it recognized the full share of the Christian layman in the government of the Church, which has ever been a characteristic feature of the Swiss churches and of those spiritually descended from them. These extensive changes, carried into effect with so slight confusion, show not merely that the hold of the Roman Church upon Zurich had become greatly weakened, but that Zwingli possessed polit ical talents of a high order. In him the statesman and the organizer are no less manifest than the reformer. But as Luther seemed to the more radi cal elements that his revolt awoke in Germany but a half-hearted reformer, so to a large party in Zurich and its vicinity Zwingli appeared to halt in a position no more satisfactory than that of the papacy. Whether the spiritual descendants of mediaeval anti-Roman sects that the breach with Rome called into new activity, or simply the most extreme wing of the revolution, or representative 160 The Reformation. of both streams of tendency, the radicals of northern Switzerland, made up in the main of those who had been foremost in welcoming Zwingli's first efforts, were drawing away from him by 1523. Men like Conrad Grebel, a member of an eminent patrician family of Zurich ; Felix Manz, a scholarly Hebraist, the son of a Zurich canon ; Georg Blaurock, a former monk of Chur, or Wilhelm Reublin, the first priest of the Zurich region publicly to take a wife, wished to go much further than Zwingli would lead. As influential as any of those just mentioned, though not living in the Zurich territory, was one of the noblest of the radical martyrs of Reformation age, Balthasar Hubmaier, once an intimate friend of Luther's eminent opponent, Eck, and a teacher in the Ingolstadt University, but now a preacher of ever-increasing radicalism at Waldshut from 1 521 to the close of 1525. The fuller story of the movement which these men represented must be reserved to a later chapter. It is sufficient now to point out that they would have had Zwingli destroy images and abolish the mass a number of months before he, with his keen sense of what was politically feasible, thought it wise to do so ; that they asserted that the Christian believers in each community should establish pure, self-governed and separate churches, independent of all control by civil rulers, thus destroying the state-churches, in which Zwingli no less than Luther believed; and that, by the spring of 1524, they began to deny the rightfulness of infant baptism, going on to the rejection of their own baptism in The Anabaptists. 161 the Roman Church and the establishment of be lievers' baptism by the baptism of Blaurock by Grebel in December, 1524, or January, 1525. To the trait last mentioned they owe the nickname, always rejected by them, "Anabaptists," or re- Baptists, by which they are known to history. These radical manifestations were the beginnings of religious movements that great and orderly com munions, especially of England and America, now hold in honor ; but to Zwingli, as to the Lutheran leaders of Germany, they seemed the destruction of all order, and the deadliest enemies, therefore, of the Reformation. Zwingli was, indeed, in a somewhat embarrassing position regarding the baptismal issue. Unlike Luther and the mediaeval Roman divines, he saw no absolute necessity for baptism as a condition of salvation. His humanistic studies inclined him to entertain the belief that many of the heathen are of the number of the redeemed. He was confident that every elect infant, baptized or unbaptized, is saved ; and he was strongly hopeful that all the in fant dead, of whatever parentage, are of the elect. To_ him, -therefore, infant baptism was not a matter of- such vital importance as to Lutherans or Roman ists ; and in his early pastorate at Zurich he had in clined to the opinion that baptism might be deferred to ad-vantage till years of discretion, though he had not put the opinion into practice. But with the growth of the radical movement and its demand for a separated Church of Christian believers, Zwingli came to attach greater importance to infant baptism. 1 62 The Reformation. A state-church without it was unthinkable, and without a state-church to sustain the contest the struggle with Rome seemed hopeless. And Zwingli came also to feel that, though not directly com manded in the Word of God, the weight of Biblical teaching made strongly for infant baptism. The customary method for the settlement of religious questions at Zurich — a public discussion — was now tried, on January 17, 1525, and again on March 20, and on November 6 ; in all of which, in the opinion of the Zurich government, Zwingli triumphed over his Anabaptist opponents. Strengthened thus by what they deemed victorious argument, the civil authorities, in January, 1525, ordered all children baptized within eight days. The Anabaptists, whose numbers were rapidly mul tiplying not only in Zurich but throughout the region, opposed the order with riotous counter- demonstrations. Their leaders were arrested and imprisoned ; but Anabaptist views seemed extremely threatening to those who sympathized with Zwingli. By far the greater number of the seventy Anabaptist congregations that came into existence in the can ton of Zurich before the Anabaptists were mastered arose in these first three or four years of the move ment. The Zurich authorities, not without the ap proval of Zwingli we must believe, were led at last to add death to imprisonment, stripes and banishment, and on January 5, 1527, Felix Manz became the first Anabaptist martyr at Zurich, meeting his death with heroic firmness — a death by drowning, in hideous parody on his doctrine of believers' baptism. The Anabaptists. 163 In estimating such a scene, one must remember that the sixteenth century was not the nineteenth or the twentieth ; and that the peril to the Reforma tion cause, as he understood that cause, seemed very real to Zwingli. Nor was he alone in the per secution of the Anabaptists. Every man's hand was against them, and before 1530 had passed no less than two thousand, it is believed, had suffered death in the various countries of central Europe over which they spread — Catholics and Protestants were alike their persecutors. While the events just narrated were in progress, the Reformation, in its Zwinglian type, was spread ing through northern Switzerland and affecting the neighboring parts of Germany. It had, indeed, no legal standing in Switzerland as a whole, whatever local legal authority it might enjoy. The Swiss Diet, representative of the confederacy of cantons, after a public disputation at Baden in Aargau in May and June, 1526, wherein Luther's old oppo nent, Eck, defended the Roman cause and from which Zwingli was absent, ordered that all innova tions in worship should cease, and condemned the innovators. But in much of Switzerland this prohibition was of no effect. In Berne, Berthold Haller (1492-1 536), who had been a teacher in the gymnasium since 15 13, and chief pastor since 1521, laid aside the mass in 1525, influenced by Zwingli. With him in opposition to Rome stood Sebastian Meyer, a Fran ciscan, and Niklaus Manuel (1484-1530), an artist, poet and satirist whose writings and plays had great 164 The Reformation. popular power. The cantonal government, after several years of vacillation and indecision, appointed a public disputation in January, 1528, in which the Bernese reformers were reinforced in debate by Zwingli, CEcolampadius of Basel, and Bucer of Strassburg. Their victory was immediately fol lowed by the destruction of images and the intro duction, under government approval, of an ecclesi astical system similar to that of Zurich. For the Zwinglian movement the accession of Berne was a political advantage of the utmost consequence. Almost as significant was the winning of Basel for the new movement. There Wolfgang Capito (1478- 1 541), later to be a leader in the reformation of Strassburg, had preached in the humanistic spirit from 15 15 to 15 19, freely criticising the abuses of the Church. But the real revolution came through the work of Johann CEcolampadius (1482- 1531), a name second in the reformation history of northern Switzerland only to that of Zwingli. A man of great learning in Greek and Hebrew, for a considerable time a warm friend of Erasmus, he came under the influence of Luther soon after the Saxon reformer began his labors. In 1522 he entered on his life-work at Basel as vicar at St. Martin's and professor in the university, and the same year began an acquaintance with Zwingli which was to bring CEcolampadius wholly into sym pathy with the Zurich leader's views. As in Berne, the Basel government long occupied a somewhat halting position ; but in February, 1529, a mob rising determined it for the newer opinions, and a Berne, Basel and Strassburg. 165 revision of worship and government like to but somewhat less radical than that of Zurich was in troduced. The victory of the Zwinglian revolt in three fore most cities of German Switzerland was accompanied by its success in many smaller places and territories, as in Appenzell, Miilhausen, St. Gall, and Schaff- hausen. But a more important conquest was the adhesion of several of the cities of southern Ger many, and, notably among them, of Strassburg. That influential city had early welcomed Luther's writings and Lutheran preachers. The year 1523 had witnessed the coming thither of three men of power, Wolfgang Capito, whom we have already seen at Basel; Kaspar Hedio (1494-1552), to be preacher in the noble cathedral ; and, greater than either, Martin Bucer (Butzer, 1491-1 5 5 1). Born at Schlett- stadt of very humble parentage, Bucer became a Dominican and an eager student at the University of Heidelberg. There he was won for the Lutheran cause by an address to which he listened in 15 18 from Luther himself. By 1521 he was fully com mitted to the Reformation. In 1522 he married a nun, and, in 1523, he entered on his reformatory work at Strassburg, where he becarne pastor of the church of St. Aurelian in March of the following year. For a quarter of a century Bucer was the religious leader of Strassburg, and surpassed only by Luther and Melanchthon in influence throughout Germany. Driven from the city of his ministry, in 1549, by the temporary reverse of the Protestant cause, he died an honored teacher of theology in 1 66 The Reformation. the English University of Cambridge. Essentially a man of peace, who labored unceasingly to bring the Saxon and the Swiss movements into harmony, he grew to sympathize with Zwingli rather than with Luther on the question most in dispute be tween those forceful leaders. Strassburg sympa thized with him, and, by 1530, Constance, Mem- mingen and Lindau stood with it. Yet, though these cities were Zwinglian rather than Lutheran in their conceptions of worship and prevalent theologic feeling, they were not as intensely Zwinglian as Zurich, Berne and Basel. Like Bucer himself, they long occupied a position mediating between the two types of thought, though political considera tions later allied them with the Lutherans. Zwingli's theology differed from that of Luther on few points of vital significance. Like Luther, he taught the sole authority of Scripture ; like Luther, he asserted that justification comes by faith alone; like Luther, he held that all believers are a royal priesthood and all ministers spiritually equal. Such unlikenesses as appeared were chiefly due to differ ences in temperament and experience. Thus, orig inal sin appeared to Zwingli a defect or disease leading to personal transgression, but without per sonal guilt in itself — a position little resembling that of the true disciples of Augustine, and one which made easier his confidence in the probable salvation of all infants, whether baptized or not. But if Zwingli thus broke with Augustinianism on one important point, he was even more conse quently Augustinian than Luther on another. Lu- Contrasted Theology. 167 ther, in the last analysis, indeed, ascribed salvation to the divine election. Faith, with him, is the gift of God. The human will is bound. But to Luther that experience of personal justification by which his burden of sinfulness had been lightened was so vivid that the doctrine of justification by faith alone was always the central truth in his theology. When he asked why some are saved and others not, he gave the Augustinian answer. But he did not often ask that question. The query that was natural to him was, rather, how are they saved ? To the cooler and more logical Zwingli the more central question appeared that of the primal source of salvation. Faith for Zwingli was trust in God and in His Word — a more general conception than Luther's specific confidence in forgiveness of per sonal sin. Justification by faith seemed to Zwingli rather the method by which certain consequences of election are accomplished than the primal fact. Indeed, as he maintained against the Anabaptists in 1527, faith is but the fourth in a series of which election, predestination and vocation are preceding steps. The central theologic truth in salvation is the sovereign choice of God. The difference be tween Luther and Zwingli here was, broadly speak ing, one of emphasis ; but it was a diversity which the further history of the Lutheran and Reformed churches and the leadership of Melanchthon was greatly to increase. Much more important than any divergence be tween Luther and Zwingli thus far mentioned was their difference regarding the nature of Christ's pres- 1 68 The Reformation. ence in the Supper. Every age has its doctrines error regarding which is popularly viewed as more heinous than error regarding other matters of belief. Such a doctrine of prime importance in the estimate of the sixteenth century was that just mentioned. Luther and Zwingli were at one in denying any propitiatory character to the Supper. Both rejected with equal strenuousness the Roman view that it is a sacrifice offered by the priest to God. Both re formers held that the communicant should partake of the sacramental wine as well as of the consecrated bread. Both viewed it as a communion instituted by Christ, and vital to the Church, as well as life- giving to the individual believer. But here their agreement ceased. To Luther, strongly mystical by nature, it seemed that the words of Scripture could bear no other interpretation than that Christ's physical body and blood are present on the altar. He could not, in- deed, hold the view of the Roman Church, to which Aquinas had given its most perfect expression, that the bread and wine are transubstantiated by the eucharistic miracle into the body and blood of the Lord, so that they cease to be the substances that they were before. Moved by suggestions which the great Parisian theological leader of the Council of Constance, Pierre d'Ailli, had dropped a century before, Luther had come, as early as 1520, to the conviction that, while the bread remains bread and the wine wine after the words of consecration, Christ's physical body and blood are truly present with them, to use his own illustration, as fire and The Sacramental Dispute. 169 iron are mingled in a red-hot bar. From this view he never swerved. Zwingli, on the other hand, seems to have come to the conclusion, soon after the beginning of his Zurich ministry, that the main value of the Supper is as a memorial of Christ's sacrifice fitted to strengthen our faith in the saving work wrought for us on the cross. Yet, as late as July, 1523, he held that Christ's presence in the Supper is physical. In that year, however, he was led by a letter of the Dutch lawyer, Cornelis Hoen of the Hague, to the conclusion, which he ever after maintained, that the crucial passage, "This is my body," might justly be interpreted, ' ' This signifies my body. ' ' With that conclusion, Zwingli abandoned all thought of a physical presence of Christ's body in the sacrament. To him henceforth the Supper was a memorial of Christ's death and a symbol of membership in his mystical body, and he felt strengthened in this rejection of all physical presence by Christ's own words as reported in that mysterious sixth chapter of the Fourth Gospel : "the flesh profiteth nothing. ' ' To Zwingli, moreover, it seemed impossible that a physical body could be in two places at once, in heaven and on earth, at God's right hand and on many altars — a difficulty which Luther attempted to solve by a theologic device more ingenious than convincing; that is, by an assertion that Christ's physical nature, like his spiritual presence, is wherever God is in the world. The beginnings of the open quarrel between the Saxon and the Swiss reformers on this question 170 The Reformation. were occasioned by Luther's one-time colleague, Carlstadt. In 1524, he aroused the interest of the Strassburg reformers, Capito and Bucer, by a fan tastic interpretation of the words of institution, asserting that Christ had indicated not the bread, but his person, to which he had doubtless pointed when he used the word " this." The explanation was valueless enough ; but the Strassburg divines applied both to Luther and to Zwingli for their opinions, and both replied. Luther at the same time published his bitter attack on Carlstadt, the Wider die himmlischen Propheten, in which he set forth his doctrine of the Supper. Three months later, in March, 1525, Zwingli made his position evident in his Commentarius de vera et falsa Re- ligione ; and CEcolampadius of Basel about the same time supported a view almost identical with that of Zwingli in a volume of much skill. Others intermingled in the controversy, but Luther and Zwingli were the chief contestants. Thus far neither had attacked the other directly. In 1526, however, Luther's Sermon vom Sacrament was put forth containing the assertion that Christ's' human nature is ubiquitous. To this argument Zwingli replied, in February, 1527, with a courteous but keen Arnica Exegesis. A few weeks later, how ever, another controversial pamphlet from Luther's pen appeared, entitled, Das dise Wort Christi, "Das ist meyn Leib" noch feststehen Wydder dye Schwermergeister, in which Luther once more classed Zwingli and CEcolampadius with the " fanatics " like Carlstadt and the Anabaptists, and affirmed that The Sacramental Dispute. 171 though they might not advance their views out of malice, yet they did so because blinded by Satan, to whose wiles he attributed the Swiss interpretations. Zwingli replied in the following June (1527), in his Dass dise Worte fesu Christi ewiglich den alten einigen Sinn haben werdend, carefully refuting Luther's arguments one by one. Though avoiding Luther's example of vituperation for the most part, Zwingli treated the Saxon reformer not only with great sharpness, but with a good deal of haughtiness. To him Luther made answer in his Vom Abendmal Christi Bekendnis, of March, 1528, generally called his " Great Confession on the Lord's Supper." In this treatise Luther defended his well-known views with great fulness, and with the violence of passion always natural to him, but never more fully dis played than in this bitter dispute. To Luther Zwingli and CEcolampadius both replied. It may be said, as partially explanatory of Luther's violence, that these were years of peculiar illness and domestic trial ; but these are not the chief reasons. Zwingli's denial of Christ's physical presence, and his assertion that the Supper is a pledge of our loy alty to Christ and of our fellowship with his people rather than a means of grace whereby forgiveness is mystically attested to us, hurt Luther's relig ious sensibilities to the quick. On the other hand, the cool and logical Zwingli could see nothing but a relic of Roman error in Luther's view. It was a con test of the older mediaeval theology with its mystic and objective conception of the sacraments, and the newer rationalizing critical spirit of humanism. 172 The Reformation. Zwingli's view won large following. It was speedily received not merely in German Switzer land, but in the Rhine valley and in many south German towns. At Strassburg it met the approval of Bucer and Hedio ; and it much impressed no less a personage among the Lutheran princes of northern Germany than Philip of Hesse. And so it came about that when the threatening political situation of Protestantism became manifest in the spring of 1529, and a defensive league was formed by elec toral Saxony, Hesse, Strassburg, Ulm and Nurem berg on April 22, as narrated in the last chapter, Luther could denounce the union with Zwinglian Strassburg as one that would send "soul and body to damnation." Equally evident is it why Philip, rather than any of the other members of this politi cal alliance, should be the one to attempt to har monize the differences between the Saxon and the Swiss reformers by a joint discussion, which, if suc cessful, would give real life to the league so severely denounced and so much needed by Protestantism. He stood in some degree as an intermediary be tween both parties. At the invitation of Landgrave Philip, repre sentatives of the opposing views came together in the Hessian town of Marburg, and the colloquy be tween them was opened on October 1, 1529. Fof the Swiss theory Zwingli and CEcolampadius ap peared as the chief champions, and with them Bucer and Hedio of Strassburg ; of the Saxon school, Lu ther and Melanchthon were the foremost debaters, and they were accompanied by Justus Jonas (1493- The Marburg Colloquy. 173 1555) and Kaspar Cruciger (1504-48) of Witten berg, Friedrich Myconius (1490-1546) of Gotha, Andreas Osiander (1498-15 52) of Nuremberg, Stephan Agricola (?-i547) of Augsburg, and Jo hann Brenz (1499-1570) of Hall. The Swiss sym pathizers had come willingly, but the Lutherans would have been absent had not political consider ations induced the Saxon elector to require the presence of the Wittenberg theologians. But it was not merely a theological repugnance which lay be hind Luther's reluctance and led Melanchthon, in his zeal for the doctrine of Christ's physical presence in the Supper, to urge that Roman divines should also be invited. The Lutheran theologians feared Zwingli's political plans as well as his heresy. Zwingli was hoping for a great combination that might force peace from the emperor for all Prot estants. To that end he was ready to avail himself of any political aid, and Philip of Hesse largely sym pathized with him. Luther and Melanchthon fa vored passive obedience. They were loyal subjects of the emperor. They were both of slight political insight, and believed with confidence that the truth, as they understood it, if uncompromisingly main tained, would somehow triumph. It was with slight prospect of agreement, there fore, that the forces of divided Protestantism gathered at Marburg. After fruitless private con ferences held by Luther with CEcolampadius and by Melanchthon with Zwingli on the first of October, the general debate took place before a select audi ence on the second and third. Luther, Zwingli and 174 The Reformation. CEcolampadius were the only participants who spoke at length. The Wittenberg disputant an nounced his determination not to abate a whit from his well-known view ; and in emphasis of his stead fastness, he wrote on the table before him with chalk the much-interpreted declaration of the Master, Hoc est corpus meum, to which he pointed when pressed in debate. The old arguments, drawn from the sixth chapter of John and from the impossibility of a physical body being in two places at once, were adduced by the Swiss, and the old replies made. Nothing new seems to have been presented. But though one or two bursts of temper from either side caused a momentary commotion, the general im pression on the auditors was of unexpected courtesy. Yet they came no nearer agreement on the vita] question. Philip would not let the union thus fail, if he could prevent it, and he brought the chief de baters together privately on October 4, after they supposed the discussion closed. Zwingli offered his hand to Luther, with the entreaty that they be at least Christian brethren, but Luther refused it and declared that the Swiss were of another spirit. He expressed surprise that a man of such views as Zwingli should wish brotherly relations with the Wittenberg reformers. It was, indeed, a melan choly illustration of the bitterness of doctrinal divisions in the Reformation age and of Luther's uncharitableness of spirit. Yet it is but fair to the Wittenburg reformer to say that he refused Zwingli's proffered hand because he believed that to take it under the circumstances would mean toleration for The Marburg Colloquy. 175 Zwingli's opinions ; and that when they parted at the close of the meetings, and no more was implied by the act than mutual respect and such good-will as may exist between honorable opponents, the clasp of the hand was not omitted. At the Landgrave's request, Luther drew up a brief creed in fifteen articles treating of the Trinity, the incarnation, divinity and humanity of Christ, original sin, justification by faith, the work of the Holy Ghost, baptism, good works, confession, civil government, Christian liberty, and, lastly, the Sup per. On all these important doctrines, save the last, both parties expressed agreement ; and even on the final article they agreed, save in one clause — that on the presence. Yet when Philip of Hesse urged the addition of the promise, " the one side shall cherish Christian love for the other," the Lutherans would accept the phrase only with the condition, "in so far as the conscience of each shall allow. ' ' To Luther, Zwingli did not seem really a Christian. So modified, the representatives of the Saxon and of the Swiss parties signed the articles and separated, each side claiming the advantage. Neither of the principal contestants was disposed to modify his position by this debate. Luther, though for a time somewhat mollified by the efforts of Bucer and Hedio to arrive at an understanding, wrote only a month before his death : " Blessed is the man that walketh not in the counsel of the Sac- ramentarians, nor standeth in the way of the Zwing- lians, nor sitteth in the seat of the Zurichers." But Philip of Hesse and Francois Lambert, the 1 76 The Reformation. Hessian reformer, both of whom were auditors of the debate, were drawn to the Zwinglian side. Philip was, indeed, too much bound up in the poli tics of northern Germany to break with Luther and Luther's friend, the Saxon elector ; but he had a very friendly feeling for the Zurich reformer. The Marburg colloquy made manifest to all that the divisions of Protestantism ran too deep to be really healed, however they might be glossed over by re luctant signatures to a hollow truce. It was the most ominous event that had thus far occurred in Protestant history. Zwingli's last few months were filled with activity. He published a commentary on Jeremiah in March, 1 53 1 ; in July, 1530, he addressed a Confession of Faith to Charles V., and again set forth his creed with an appeal to Francis I. of France in July, 1531. He gave much attention to the improvement of education and of morals in the canton of Zurich. But his chief interests were involved in far-reaching political plans, all of which were to be frustrated, but from which he hoped much, and in local quarrels between the cantons which had accepted the Evan gelical faith and those which rejected it. Could Zwingli's plans have been realized, a great Protestant league would have been formed in 1529, in which all opponents of Rome would have been united and for which the help of the French and the Venetians, he hoped, could be secured, which might have forced from the emperor a full recognition of its right to be. These were schemes that attracted Philip of Hesse in the year of the Marburg colloquy Zwingli Disappointed. 177 and helped to repel Luther. But Zwingli had the pain of seeing them come to naught. The only union of Protestants that could come into being was a Lutheran union in which Switzerland had no share. Even more unfortunate for Zwingli's hopes was the course of Swiss local politics. While the can tons containing the prosperous cities of Zurich, Berne and Basel declared for the Reformation, the five forest cantons, Uri, Schwyz, Unterwalden, Luzern and Zug, remained staunchly and jealously Roman. They also favored that foreign military service which Zwingli energetically opposed. Causes of friction between the Catholics and Protestants were numerous. In March, 1529, on the death of its abbot, the Evangelical majority of St. Gall con fiscated the property of the famous monastery of that name with the approval of Zwingli and the au thorities of Zurich. Two months later the authori ties of the canton of Schwyz arrested Jakob Kaiser, a Zurich minister, for preaching within their juris diction, and burned him as a heretic. These events greatly increased the tension be tween the Roman and the Evangelical cantons, which had entered into opposing leagues. Behind the Catholic league stood the emperor's brother, Ferdinand, the Archduke of Austria. Zwingli felt that war was bound to come, and that it might best come at once, and Zurich shared his view. He hoped, moreover, that, as a result, the Swiss con stitution might be changed, so that the representa tion in the Swiss Diet might be proportionate to population, thus radically altering the existing sys- 178 The Reformation. tern whereby the more numerous though less pop ulous Catholic cantons held the majority. In June, 1529, Zurich put four thousand men into the field, and Berne soon raised a defensive force of five thousand. The Catholic cantons called out nearly twelve thousand troops. But it did not come to a battle. The forces lay opposite one another near Cappel, on the Zug frontier, for several weeks. Neither wanted to begin the attack upon those with whom they had so long been politically associated. The Swiss not involved sought to mediate ; and the result was that peace was made on June 25, 1529, on terms very favorable to the Evangelical cause. Each canton was declared free to choose its religion, and equal legal rights were given to Protes tants and Catholics in all the relations of one can ton with another. The Catholic cantons were com pelled to abandon their alliance with Austria, and to indemnify the Protestants for the costs of the campaign as well as the family of Jakob Kaiser. Of course such a peace rankled in the memories of the defeated party, and there had been no test of strength in battle. The questions could not be regarded as settled. Friction was increased rather than diminished. Both sides sought foreign allies and looked for the renewal of the war. In 1 531 it came. Berne proposed that the five Roman cantons be blockaded and starved into submission by the Protestants, and against Zwingli's advice Zurich co operated in the plan in May, 1531. To Zwingli it rightly appeared that a prompt, open campaign was the only road to success. Zurich was divided. Death of Zwingli. 1 79 Zwingli was criticised and defeated. On July 26 he resigned the pastorate he had held since 15 19, but his resignation was not accepted by the civil authorities, and he hoped for the moment that they would adopt his policy of vigorous action, but in vain. Meanwhile the starving forest cantons, as might have been anticipated, put forth their utmost endeavor, and early in October were in the field with eight thousand men, determined to break the blockade. With a supineness explainable only by their divisions, and in spite of Zwingli's warnings, the people of Zurich had made no preparation for so inevitable a campaign. Their hasty efforts could gather but fifteen hundred men ; and on the battle field of Cappel, on the afternoon of October 11, 1 53 1, this inferior force was totally defeated by the Catholics with a loss of more than five hundred, in cluding many of the most prominent inhabitants of Zurich. Among the slain was Zwingli himself. He had accompanied the forces as chaplain, and had done his best to encourage them in the unequal struggle. As the battle-field remained in the pos session of the victors, Zwingli's body fell into their power. It was quartered by the executioner and burned. So ended a man who in clearness of in sight and consequence of logic surpassed all the reformers save Calvin, and in largeness of political plans was the superior of them all. For Swiss Protestantism this was a great defeat. In the peace that followed, the right of the Protes tant cantons to maintain their own religion was, indeed, granted. In lands possessed by the Swiss 180 The Reformation. union in the common ownership of all the cantons, the population was left free to choose its faith. But Zurich had to abandon all foreign alliances and repay the indemnities exacted of the Catholic can tons in 1529. Protestantism made no further ad vances in German Switzerland. The lines between the two confessions then drawn were permanent. To Luther, Zwingli's death appeared a judgment of God on his unbelief, and he was sorry that the Roman cantons had not put an end to Zwinglianism altogether. Yet, though Zwingli's ambitious po litical hopes came to naught, his reformation move ment grew stronger and more pervasive of the popular life in the region where he had labored because he had planted deep, and because the work came under the wise, patient, far less ambitious but eminently sane leadership of Heinrich Bullinger (1504-75), Zwingli's successor in the Zurich chief- pastorate. And the Swiss movement as a whole was soon given a world-wide significance by the master-hand of the reformer of French Switzerland, John Calvin. Ifr CHAPTER V. THE LUTHERAN CHURCHES OF GERMANY. HE successive differentiations of the Sax on reformers from other and from more radical revolutionary leaders, culminat ing in the Marburg colloquy, were rapidly changing the Lutheran revolt from a protest by a party within the one historic Church against abuses and assumptions, and from an assertion of particular theories of the way of sal vation, of the sources of authority and of the con stitution of the Church, into a distinct ecclesiastical body resting on a definite and exclusive confessional basis. This growth of belief into dogma appears in the Schwabach Articles which Luther prepared within a fortnight after the debate at Marburg (Oc tober 16, 1529), and which were to serve in part as the basis of a much more significant creed-statement eight months later. After enumerating eleven ar ticles of faith, he therein declared that the " Church is formed by believers in Christ, who maintain, be lieve and teach the aforesaid articles and particu lars. ' ' Yet Luther and Melanchthon felt themselves far more one with the adherents of Rome, however Strongly they denounced the papacy and the corrup- 181 1 82 The Reformation. tions of the Roman Church, than with Anabaptists or even with Zwinglians. They had not separated from the Roman Church, so much as from its abuses. Reunion with it, on conditions honorable to both, though not probable, seemed not impossible. It was under the dominance of these two somewhat divergent forces, the one impelling toward the erec tion of a standard of Lutheran orthodoxy, the other toward the largest possible friendliness to Rome consistent with the maintenance of their own prin ciples, that the greatest creed of Lutheranism, the Augsburg Confession of 1530, was prepared. From Italy, where he received the imperial crown at the hands of the now friendly pope, Charles V. sent out, on January 21, 1530, the call for a Reichs tag to meet at Augsburg. For the first time in nine years the emperor was to be present at an assembly representative of Germany. The call thus issued declared one main purpose of the new Reichstag to be the union of both religious parties in Germany ; and, to the surprise of many who knew the positive convictions of the emperor, it promised a kindly hearing to all views. It was rightly looked upon by the Protestants as a summons to justify their posi tions, and in preparation for the Reichstag the Wit tenberg theologians met at Torgau in March, 1530, and sketched a defence of the Saxon changes in worship and government, which was destined to serve as a basis for the second part of the Augs burg Confession. Elector Johann of Saxony, ac companied by the Wittenberg divines, was early on his way to the Reichstag. At Easter the party was The Augsburg Confession. 183 in Coburg, where Luther was left behind, lest his presence in Augsburg should seem to the emperor too bold and insulting a defiance of the dishonored Edict of Worms. On May 2 the elector, with Me lanchthon, Jonas and Agricola, reached Augsburg. Here all awaited the coming of the emperor, who arrived on June 15th. The original thought of the Wittenberg theo logians was probably that of a simple defence of their modifications of Roman ceremonies and rejec tion of Roman authority, but by the time that Me lanchthon reached Augsburg it was felt that some more complete statement of their position was nec essary. Luther's indefatigable opponent, Eck, had drawn up and sent to the emperor, in March, 1530, a list of four hundred and four alleged errors current in Germany, in which the opinions of Zwinglians, Anabaptists, and even more radical leaders, were ingeniously intermingled with those of the Luther ans, and the differences between the various types of reformers were skilfully confused. It was plain to the Saxon reformers that they must state their positive beliefs, and that they must not merely dis criminate between themselves and the ancient her etics or modern radicals with whom Eck had pur posely confused them, but must show their close accord with what they deemed the purer teaching of the Roman Church itself. Accordingly, with the aid of Luther's Schwabach Articles, Melanchthon now prepared the first, or affirmative, part of the Augsburg Confession, and submitted all that had thus far been drafted to a thorough revision. Till 184 The Reformation. the hour of its presentation to the Reichstag, Me. lanchthon continued to modify his work and to soften the points of contrast between it and the beliefs of his Roman opponents. Indeed, so much was he a man of peace and concession that Me lanchthon, under the influence of the immediate presence of the emperor and his Roman advisers, was disposed to reduce the points of debate to three — the cup for the laity, permission of priestly marriage, and abandonment of private masses. This would have been to abandon what was most vital to the Lutheran movement, and the Lutheran politi cal leaders held him to the Confession. The Augsburg Confession as completed by Me lanchthon and read before the emperor and the Reichstag, on the afternoon of June 25, 1530, was a document in two parts, the first containing an out line of positive Christian belief in twenty-one short articles ; the second, a repudiation of certain Ro man practices and beliefs, such as the denial of the cup to the laity, priestly celibacy, the sacrificial theory of the mass, the Roman uses of confession, fasts, penances and monastic vows, and the power over churchly and civil affairs assumed by the Ro man bishops and clergy. True to its irenic purpose, the sole authority of the Scripture was nowhere ex pressly affirmed nor was the primacy of the pope distinctly denied. The article on the Supper was so framed as not to exclude transubstantiation ; and Melanchthon affirmed, in reply to criticisms, that in the Lutheran doctrines as a whole " there is nothing which is discrepant with the Scriptures, or with the The Augsburg Confession. 185 Church Catholic, or even with the Roman Church, so far as that Church is known from the writings of the fathers." The same desire to make the breach with the Roman Church as slight as possible ap pears in the care with which the Confession rejects ancient heresies and the more radical movements of its own day. Yet no attentive reader can be in any doubt as to the Evangelical atmosphere of the Con fession. Justification by faith is clearly, though un- aggressively, asserted, and the Church is defined in the true spirit of Protestantism as " the assembly of all believers, in which the Gospel is purely preached and the sacraments administered according to the Gospel." In spite of its omissions and its reten tions, this earliest of modern creeds of wide accept ance is one which the Lutheran churches of to-day may well be proud to own. It is broad, catholic, and essentially Evangelical. The Confession thus prepared by Melanchthon, on the basis of earlier work by Luther and other Wittenberg theologians, was originally designed to be presented to the Reichstag by electoral Saxony alone. Other Protestant governments had begun or completed the preparation of statements of belief and defences of their innovations. But the desirability of unity was evident, and when the Confession was laid before the Reichstag it bore the signatures not only of the Saxon elector, but of Philip of Hesse, Ernst, Johann Friedrich and Franz of Brunswick-Liineburg, Wolfgang of Anhalt, Georg of Anspach, and of the cities Nuremberg and Reutlingen. Of these, the most significant was 1 86 The Reformation. that of the landgrave of Hesse, whose sympathies continued to be with Zwingli on the question of Christ's presence in the Supper, but whose political instincts led him to stand shoulder to shoulder with the Saxon reformers. Zwingli himself sent a per sonal expression of his belief to the emperor ; and the four South-German cities of Zwinglian sym- pathies, Strassburg, Constance, Memmingen and Lindau, denied by the Lutherans the right to sign the Augsburg Confession unless they would un- reservedly accept its definition of the Supper, pre- sented a confession, chiefly from the pen of Bucer, to the emperor on the eleventh of July. ' This Con- ifessio Tetrapolitana is chiefly interesting by reason 1 of it's clear assertion of Scripture as the sole author ity, and its attempt to steer an intermediate course between Luther and Zwingli on the nature of Christ's presence, presenting a view akin to that later developed by Calvin. Neither of these Zwinglian confessions, however, obtained the hear- ing or the respect accorded to that of the Lutherans. To the Augsburg Confession a reply was pre pared, at the instance of the emperor, by a con siderable number of Roman theologians under the leadership of the papal legate, Lorenzo Campegi. This Confutation as originally drafted, chiefly by Eck, seemed to the emperor and the Catholic princes too offensive, and on their insistence it was several times modified in tone, till it was at last officially accepted by the emperor and read to the Reichstag on August 3, as a complete answer to the Protes tants. But the Protestant princes persisted in their The Augsburg Confession. 187 adherence to the Augsburg Confession, and there fore negotiations were opened looking toward a compromise. Committees representative of both parties met, led respectively by Eck and Melanch thon. A considerable degree of agreement was at tained, chiefly through Melanchthon's willingness to surrender much that had seemed vital for the sake of peace ; but the Protestant princes stood firmer than he, and in the end all compromise was aban doned. Though some of the Roman party which held the majority at Augsburg counselled the im mediate repression of the Protestants, the military situation of the empire, threatened by Turkish attack, inclined Charles V. and the greater part of his supporters to cautious action. In September the decision came. The emperor promised to do his best to bring about a general council by which all religious questions should receive a final settle ment, but the Lutherans, having been refuted, must permit Catholic services in their lands, make no further alterations in worship, and assist the emperor to put down Anabaptists and Zwinglians. On these terms they might have till April 15, 1531, to prepare for a complete conformity to the em peror's wishes. These terms the Lutherans re fused, and on September 22, 1530, they handed to the emperor the first draft of Melanchthon's Apology for the Augsburg Confession, with the declaration that it had never been refuted. This hastily written defence of the Confession Melanchthon leisurely rewrote during the following winter, and as put forth in April, 1531, it was a brilliant and learned 1 88 The Reformation. vindication of Protestant doctrines. Always re. garded as an indispensable commentary on the Augsburg Confession, it almost immediately came to share with that declaration the authority of a creed in the Lutheran churches. The most significant result of the Augsburg Reichstag was that it had manifested the Lutherans as a compact party, and had given to that party a definite creed-basis. Though not written as a test of unity in belief, the Augsburg Confession almost immediately assumed that symbolic authority. It was a great convenience to have a visible uniting bond by which Lutherans could be distinguished on the one hand from the adherents of the older communion, and on the other from the more radical reformers. Yet, for more than a decade, it was conformity to the beliefs, rather than to the letter, of the Confession that was sought ; and Melanch thon saw no impropriety in modifying the Confes sion and its associated Apology in successive editions as his theology developed. These modifi cations were later to be a source of bitter contro versy within the Lutheran body itself. The Augsburg decision could be construed in no other sense than as an ultimate threat of war, and to meet the situation the Protestant princes assem bled at Schmalkalden in Thuringia in December, 1530, and in February and March, 1 531, formed a league* known as that of Schmalkalden, promising mutual defence for the next six years. In this league there united not only electoral Saxony, Hesse, Brunswick-Luneburg, Anhalt, and Mans- League of Schmalkalden. 189 feld, but the cities of Strassburg, Constance, Ulm, Memmingen, Lindau, Reutlingen, Biberach, Isny, Liibeck, Magdeburg and Bremen. The most sig nificant feature of this list is that it contains the names of those great south German cities with which the Lutherans had refused federation in 1529. That they were now joined was due in part to the increasing feeling of the Lutherans that resistance to the emperor was a right, in part to the unsettled political situation of Zurich and the maiming of Zwingli's plans, but chiefly to the skilful negotia. tions and irenic temper of Bucer. With the defeat of Cappel and the death of Zwingli on October 11, 1531, the Swiss connection lost its political value, and the south German cities turned more than ever to the northern states as necessary allies if they were themselves to stand. Once formed, the Schmalkaldic League rapidly united German Protes tantism. In December, 1531, Johann of Saxony and Philip of Hesse were chosen its leaders. Fresh accessions came to it, and a number of German princes, notably those of Bavaria, though strongly Roman in religious sympathies, entered into friend ly relations to the league because of opposition to the emperor's efforts for the dynastic advancement of the house of Austria, of which he was the head. Germany was divided politically no less than relig iously, and the 15th of April, 1531, passed without any action against the Protestants. Yet, in spite of the Schmalkaldic League, it would have gone hard with the Evangelical party had Charles V. been able to exert his full strength ; but, 190 1 tie Reformation. by the year 1532, his hands were once more tied by the course of the larger politics of Europe. Be- , tween 1521 and 1529, the emperor's principal con test had been with France for the control of Italy. Now, though danger from France was not wholly eliminated, the chief anxiety was from the attacks of the Turks on the eastern borders of the empire. The Turkish empire, under Suleiman II. (1520- 66), had conquered Belgrade and Rhodes in 1521 and 1522, had defeated the Hungarians in the disas trous battle of Mohacs in 1526, and had been beaten back from the walls of Vienna itself with difficulty after a memorable siege in 1529, during the very days when Luther and Zwingli were returning home ward from the just ended colloquy at Marburg. Under the terrifying impress of these events, the Reichstag met at Augsburg in 1530, and to the danger on the eastern border was due in some measure the patient hearing there accorded the Protestants. Yet 1530 and 1531 passed without Turkish attack and with apparently increasing pros pect that a peace with the sultan would be effected. Could that be brought about, Charles would be free to attack the Protestants. But, in the spring of 1532, the news came that Suleiman was determined on a campaign that should accomplish the conquest of Vienna which he had vainly attempted in 1529, and for this end the sultan had raised an army of most portentous proportions. A united Germany was an immediate political necessity, the more so that France seemed disposed to take advantage of the situation ; and, accordingly, the reluctant em- Politics Force a Truce. 191 peror began negotiations with the Protestants, which resulted at Nuremberg on July 23, 1532, in a religious truce, by which the Evangelical states were granted the free exercise of their worship till a general council should meet. For the time being the position of the Protestants was assured. Thus strengthened by the suspension of internal quarrels, the empire successfully repelled the Turkish attack, in a campaign without battles of magnitude, and the danger to the eastern border was averted. The most significant event of the year was not this frustration of Suleiman's plans, but the tolera tion of Protestantism which Turkish advance had compelled. The Protestants, though having no permanent legal status, had won a temporary recog nition which made them stronger than ever ; and their new position was given assurance of consider able permanency because the council that the em peror desired the pope heartily opposed and would grant only on conditions that precluded Protestant acceptance, and because Charles V. himself left Germany for Italy and Spain in the autumn of 1532, and was not able to return to that divided land till 1 541. Great undertakings, such as his brilliant ex pedition against Tunis in 1535, and a renewed war with France from 1536 to 1538, kept the emperor busied elsewhere. The Nuremberg Truce of 1532 had promised peace only to those who were already adherents of the Augsburg Confession, but under such favoring circumstances, it is not surprising that the Schmal kaldic League grew in influence and received con- 192 The Reformation. siderable accessions. The most important of these was that of Wiirtemberg. Thence the tyrannical duke Ulrich had been driven forth by the Swabian League in 15 19, and the government of the land had come into the hands of the emperor's brother, Ferdinand. Years had weakened the hostility of Ulrich's sub jects toward their former ruler, and adversity had probably improved his character ; his son, Chris topher, was highly popular, while neighboring princes, Catholic and Protestant, looked with anxiety on the increase of the power of the Austrian house which the retention of Wiirtemberg by Ferdinand signified. During his long exile spent at the court of Philip of Hesse, Ulrich had embraced Protestant ism. Philip now, in the spring of 1534, and with the aid of French money, attacked Ferdinand's troops, and forced a treaty at Kadan on June 29, by which Ulrich was restored to his former dukedom and authorized to introduce Protestant changes into Wiirtemberg. The Evangelical movement speedily took possession of that land and of the neighboring Baden. The year of this great addition to the Protestant territories of Germany saw the victory of the Evangelical party in the city of Hanover and the territory of Pomerania ; in 1535 Protestantism gained the upper hand in Augsburg and in Frank- fort-on-the-Main ; and in 1536 the Protestant cities and states of south Germany were knit to the Lutherans of the north by the acceptance of a moderate Lutheran declaration on the nature of Christ's presence in the Supper— the Wittenberg Protestant Growth. 193 Concord. Though thus moving doctrinally in a direction away from Zwingli, in forms of worship these South-German churches inclined to the sim plicity of Switzerland. The same year, 1536, the Schmalkaldic League was renewed for ten years, and extended to all who had thus far embraced Protestantism and would sign the Augsburg Con fession. By 1536 German Protestantism had won a strong position ; but it was not yet secure. Not only had it acquired no permanent legal rights, there had been no real test of strength between it and its Roman opponents. As time passed, new dangers arose. The desire of Charles V. that a reformatory general council after the model of those of the fifteenth century should be held was earnest, but Pope Clement VII. had steadily opposed. In 1534, however, Clement was succeeded by a man more thoroughly alive than he to the necessity of churchly reform, Alexander Farnese, who took the title of Paul III. (pope 1534-49). French though he was in political sympathy, Paul so far yielded to the demands of Charles V. that in June, 1536, he called the desired council to meet in Mantua in May of the following year. The call was a serious em barrassment to the Protestants. They had early appealed to a council. But this council was sum moned by the pope, to meet in an Italian city ; and the pope stated, not indeed in the call itself, but in a bull of the time, that its purpose was to root out the pestilential Lutheran heresy. The Protestants in such an assembly would find themselves at best a 194 The Reformation. feeble minority, powerless to control decisions by which, if participants, they would nevertheless be bound. No wonder that the representatives of the League which met in Schmalkalden in February, 1537, declared such a council wholly unsatisfactory and refused a share in it. Yet, curiously enough, this decision was strongly against the judgment of Luther, who felt that the pope's call should have been accepted, that truth, as he understood it, might be presented and have its weight with the council. In preparation for this meeting at Schmalkalden, Luther drew up a statement of faith, couched in very vigorous and denunciatory language, setting forth those general principles on which Lutherans and Romanists were agreed, the points of difference of vital importance wherein no union could be hoped for, and those topics which, though not doubtful to him, might yet be discussed with some hope of agreement between learned and sensible ad herents of the papacy and their opponents. This statement, after receiving the signatures of most of the Wittenberg theologians, was presented to the Saxon elector, Johann Friedrich (1532-47), in January, 1537. Though adopted by no official body, theological or political, and really the private expression of Luther and such as chose to append their signatures, this creed has passed into the symbolic standards of Lutheranism as the ' ' Schmal kaldic Articles. " Appended to it, as usually pub lished, is a brief " Treatise " by Melanchthon " on the Power and Primacy of the Pope," that was The Schmalkaldic Articles. 195 formally approved by the representatives of the League and the theologians assembled at Schmal kalden on this occasion. It is significant not only as expressing the strongly anti-papal spirit of the Protestants, but as revealing their increasing con viction that no reconciliation with the old Church was possible. It will be remembered that the Augsburg Confession had contained no express denial of the authority of the pope. Among those present at Schmalkalden when the Protestants thus rejected papal overtures was the im perial Vice-Chancellor, Dr. Matthias Held, who had presented the emperor's summons to the Protestants to be well represented at the council. Held now undertook to unite the princes who adhered to the older communion into a league to offset that of Schmalkalden ; and though the task presented many difficulties, owing to mutual jealousies, he brought it about that on June 10, 1538, a confedera tion was formed at Nuremberg which, though far from including all the Roman sympathizers in Ger many, joined the emperor, his brother Ferdinand, Bavaria, ducal Saxony, the archbishops of Mainz and of Salzburg, and dukes Erich and Heinrich of Brunswick, in a union to resist Protestant advance. Yet, though the existence of this counter-league gave a warlike aspect to the internal politics of Germany, and though Charles V. brought the war with France to an end by the Truce of Nice con temporaneously with the formation of the Catholic League, the political situation, by reason of the threatening growth of Turkish aggression, especially 196 The Reformation. in the Mediterranean, counselled peace, as in 1532. The general council, called with such difficulty, and on which the emperor had based so great expecta tions, had not yet met by reason of the wars. It was not to assemble effectively till 1545. Protes tantism was making rapid territorial advance. Ducal Saxony, where Duke Georg (1500-39) had long strenuously upheld the Roman cause, came, at his death on April 17, 1539, under the rule of the Protestant Duke Heinrich (1539-41). Later in the same year, Brandenburg, under Joachim 11.(1535-71), ranged itself on the Evangelical side. A far less shrewd politician than Charles V. could have per ceived that the times were unpropitious for an attempt to put down Protestantism by force. He still hoped that a tolerable basis of compromise between the two parties could be found. And so it came about, after much negotiation, that on April J9> 1539, an agreement was reached at Frankfort, by which all hostile action and legal processes between the Protestants and the Catholics should be sus pended for six months. A much more important provision of this treaty was that friendly discussion looking toward " Christian union" should be held between representatives of both parties. How far this Frankfort Suspension was a device on the part of the emperor to gain time, or how far he really believed an adjustment of the points at issue possible as a result of friendly debate, is diffi cult to say. Probably he had more than one plan in mind ; and as those involving force were beyond his present power, he would try a path of peace. Union Efforts. 197 Yet a friendly adjustment of the differences did not then seem so impossible as it now appears in the light of history. Italy and southern Germany were showing counter-reformations of the Spanish type that were very thorough, and the Lutheran cause was becoming a great political interest as well as a theologic movement. The two tendencies might be joined in a reunited Church. After an attempted discussion at Hagenau, in June, 1540, had proved idle owing to disagreement as to the way in which it should be conducted, twenty-two disputants, eleven from each party, were brought together under the presidency of the emperor's representative, the elder Granvella, at Worms, in November following. Here Melanchthon and Calvin debated side by side and laid the foundations for a warm personal friendship. With them stood Bucer, Cruciger and Brenz. For the Roman party, Eck was the chief debater, sup ported by the polemic Johann Cochlaeus of Breslau, long the chief literary assistant of Duke Georg of Saxony in his resistance to Luther, and by the con ciliatory Johann Gropper of Cologne. But, by Jan uary, 1 541, the papal nuncio, Bishop Morone of Modena, fearful lest the debate work to the damage of the Roman cause, had raised such difficulties that, at the command of the emperor, the discus sion was adjourned to the meeting of the Reichs tag at Regensburg, which opened under the presi dency of Charles V. himself in the following April. Eager to secure a union, the emperor designated as disputants for the Protestants Melanchthon, Bucer and Johann Pistorius, all men of moderate 198 The Reformation. views ; and joined with Eck on the Roman side two conciliatory associates, Johann Gropper, who had appeared at Worms, and Julius Pflug of Naum- burg. Even more promising was the appointment, at the emperor's suggestion, as nuncio, by Pope Paul III., of the most conciliatory representative of the Italian counter-Reformation, Cardinal Gasparo Contarini (1483-1542). From April 27, 1541, to May 22, the debate continued. But though agree ment was reached on many points, and Contarini was willing to allow the cup to the laity, the mar riage of priests, and even the doctrine of justifica tion by faith alone with some modification, no agreement could be reached regarding the Church or the Lord's Supper. The emperor's plan had totally failed to bring about the desired reconciliation. Though the Nuremberg Truce of 1532 was extended by the Reichstag to all present adherents of the Augsburg Confession, and a special declaration by Charles V. gave certain other concessions to the Protestants, the failure of these union attempts was the one great religious event of the year 1541. It marked the separation of the churches. Heretofore all had been to a large extent tentative. Hence forth they go separate ways. The effect on the papal policy was at once apparent. A bull was is sued calling a general council to meet at Trent in May, 1542, to formulate Catholic doctrine — a coun cil, however, that did not begin its work effectively till December, 1545. By a second bull, of July, 1542, the Inquisition was reorganized at Rome, as world-wide in its scope, and placed under the con- The Efforts Fail. 199 trol of a cardinal familiar with Spanish methods and himself the friend of the leaders in the Spanish Reformation, Giovanni Pietro Caraffa (1476-15 59), the later Pope Paul IV. Baffled thus in his attempt to effect a reconcilia tion of Protestants and Catholics by discussion, Charles V. now turned to a more complicated plan involving far-reaching and most difficult political combinations. In brief, it was to divide the Prot estants politically, to prevent the interference of France, to secure a general council which should effect those reforms in ecclesiastical administration which were generally recognized as desirable, and that should remain in session ready to make such minor doctrinal concessions as should be needful to reunite the Protestants to the Roman Church when the imperial forces should have overcome their di vided ranks. In 1541, reconciliation with France seemed out of the question, but a curious event of far-reaching consequence had made possible the division in the Protestant party which the emperor desired. Philip of Hesse (1509-67), the boldest and politi cally the most energetic and far-sighted member of the Schmalkaldic League, had early married Chris tine, a daughter of Duke Georg of Saxony. She had borne him seven children. But, like many princes of the Reformation age, Philip had little self-control, and fell into repeated breaches of the seventh commandment. A somewhat sensitive con science led him to absent himself for years from the Supper on this account. But the repudiation of the 200 The Reformation. Roman ecclesiastical law and the weight laid upon the Old Testament by the new exaltation of the au thority of Scripture led to some unsettling of men's minds. To the troubled landgrave it seemed as if bigamy would be a Biblically-permitted escape from his more scandalous lapses, and he was en couraged in the belief by a declaration of Luther in the De Captivitate Babylonica that bigamy was more tolerable than divorce ; and by a sermon upon Abraham, Sarah and Hagar, printed seven years later, in which Luther affirmed that though he could not forbid bigamy in his own time, he would not counsel it. So it came about that, after having long entertained the thought of a possible second marriage, Philip reached the determination, in 1539, to take as a second wife Margaretha von der Saal, the young daughter of a lady of his sister's little court at Rochlitz. For this step he won the con sent of Bucer, who feared that if thwarted he would turn to the emperor or even to the pope ; and he sent Bucer as his messenger, in December, 1539, to obtain if possible the approval of Luther and Me lanchthon. In their reply, the Wittenberg reform ers declared that bigamy was in no sense a universal right, at most it was an exceptional dispensation from the general law. They urged Philip in plain- spoken language to amend his vicious life ; but they consented, if that amendment were impossible, that the landgrave should take another wife, giving to her, apparently, the public status essentially of a concubine, and by all means keeping the marriage a secret, lest scandal arise. It was bad advice, Philip's Bigamy. 201 though doubtless the reformers were moved to con sent to the course that Philip proposed as a less evil than the unregulated excesses which Philip declared himself otherwise unable to resist. Nor were mat ters made better when the marriage had been per formed, on March 4, 1540, by one of Philip's court preachers in the presence of Melanchthon and Bucer. Of course the facts soon became public, and of course the Saxon relatives of the landgrave's first wife were angry, though she had given her consent. The seed of discord was sown in the Protestant ranks. Though Luther advised that the landgrave should conceal the facts, and Melanchthon fell into a sickness through chagrin that carried him almost to the gates of death, to be rescued, it was believed, by Luther's prayers, the mischief was done. And, worst of all, many who had been favorable to the Lutheran doctrines now queried their moral quality. No less important a personage than the emperor's brother, Ferdinand, afterward declared that he had been turned from a rapidly growing sympathy with the Protestant position by this untoward event. It was the hardest blow that Protestantism had yet received. Very characteristic, however, was the use which that shrewdest of politicians of the sixteenth century, Charles V., made of the disfavor with which Philip found himself regarded. He attempted no punishment of the landgrave, but he took ad vantage of Philip's isolated position to force a treaty, in June, 1541, by which Philip promised that neither he nor the Schmalkaldic League, if he could prevent it, should invoke the aid of the 202 The Reformation. French or of other foreigners against the emperor. The Lutheran cause was thus robbed of the unity and freedom of action that it had heretofore en joyed and deprived of Philip's aggressive leadership. Charles V. would undoubtedly have gladly at tacked the Protestants at once. But if he had made a decided tactical gain through Philip's error, the outward politics of the empire were never more discouraging than in 1 541 and 1 542. A fresh invasion of the Turks under Suleiman, in 1541, so rendered them the masters of Hungary that the sultan now gave it the government of a Turkish province. An expedition led against Algiers by Charles V. in person in the autumn of that year ended in disaster, The war with France broke forth anew in July, 1542. Turkey and France were in alliance. Never was the emperor in a more difficult position. Prot estant help was a military necessity. At the Reichstag of Speier, in 1542, peace was promised to the Protestants for five years. Two years later, at a Reichstag held in the same city, the emperor de clared it to be his intention to submit to the next Reichstag a plan of a " Christian reformation," and, borrowing the favorite phrase of the Protes tants, he affirmed it to be his desire that the ques tions at issue be laid before a " common, free, Christian council." If such a council could not be obtained, then, declared the emperor, a Reichstag should be called within the next few months, to which the states should present their plans for reform that a common agreement might be reached. The Protestants were delighted. They believed that The Emperor s Plans. 203 the emperor might even be won for their cause, the more because the pope was supporting the French. They voted him the troops that he desired. Thus laboriously prepared, and aided by an alli ance with Henry VIII. of England, the great attack on France began in June, 1544. The em peror pushed rapidly forward. In September he was within two days' march of Paris. No German army had been so near the French capital for more than five hundred years. All looked for a decisive battle. But, instead, on September 14, peace was made, on terms which seemed to give the emperor few of the advantages that apparently lay in his grasp. Its value was in secret articles which pledged Francis not to aid the Protestants. Furthermore, both sovereigns looked with favor on a general council, not as the Protestants desired it to be, but after the mediaeval model, and in November, 1544, under the influence of this agreement, Pope Paul III. once more issued a bull summoning such a body to assemble at Trent. There it was at last to meet in December, 1545. The emperor's hands were at last free ; and, while the Schmalkaldic League seemed strong, re cent events had greatly weakened it. It has already been pointed out that Landgrave Philip's actions were bound by the use that Charles V. made of his bigamy. Joachim II. of Brandenburg, won by the imperial favor, held aloof from the league without joining the Catholics. But more important was the attitude of the young head of ducal Saxony, Moritz (1521-53), who had succeeded that earnest 204 The Reformation. supporter of Lutheranism, Duke Heinrich, in 1541, By 1542, Moritz had withdrawn from the Schmal kaldic union and was evidently anxious to stand well in the eyes of the emperor. How far the keen- sighted plans for his own advancement which Moritz later developed were already formed it is impossible to say. But he was determined to rise from his comparatively insignificant station among the princes of Germany, and, if service to the em peror could aid that rising, his Protestantism was not ardent enough to constitute a barrier. It was ominous for the future that Moritz had nearly come to war with his kinsman, the Saxon elector, in 1542, over the possession of a petty district to which they both laid claim. Such a man, dominated by politi cal and personal ambitions rather than by religious motives, was an agent admirably adapted to effect that division in the Protestant ranks which the em peror desired. But it was not till May, 1546, that Charles could be wholly sure of Moritz's support, and dared fully to risk the wager of war. It was just before the affairs of the Protestants had reached this crisis that Luther died at Eisleben, the place of his birth, on February 18, 1546. He had gone thither from Wittenberg as a peacemaker between the counts of Mansfeld. He was in active service to the last, and he died in the comfort of the Christian hope and in the confidence of the beliefs for which he had fought so strenuous a battle. His last years had been full cf trial. His health had long been poor. He had suffered much from the stone. The quarrels of the reformers, in which he Luther's Death. 205 had borne his full share, distressed him. His own violent temper had cost him many friends. And he grieved much that the reformed doctrines won but an imperfect control over the lives of his fol lowers. He was often cast down in spirit, disposed to withdraw from Wittenberg and all its annoy ances. But his home life was a constant source of consolation, his faith in the Gospel, as he had pro claimed it, was unshakable, and his every mo ment was occupied with the activities which were entailed by preaching and instruction, by the de fence of the Reformation, and by the consideration of the multitudinous questions on which he was consulted affecting the conduct and interests of individuals of all ranks, as well as the larger affairs of Church and State. The Reformation movement had, indeed, passed far beyond his control long before his death ; but while he was of the living no man spoke with such popular authority in Germany, nor has any son of the Fatherland lived in memory as has he. He sleeps, in well-earned rest, beside the altar of the Castle Church at Wittenberg, to the door of which he had nailed his theses twenty- eight eventful years before his death. It was not till the June following Luther's burial that Johann Friedrich of electoral Saxony and Philip of Hesse were aware that they were in danger, though the full extent of the union against them was even then wholly unsuspected. On June 20, 1546, electoral Saxony and Hesse were declared under imperial ban. The Schmalkaldic army was promptly raised for their defence, and was in the 206 The Reformation. field before the promised help could reach the em peror from the pope and the Netherlands. The Protestants might have won, but their first sharp push forward was followed by divided counsels and by hesitation about invading the territories of neigh bors whom they still believed to be neutral, and the auspicious moment passed. Moritz's attitude at first was one of apparent neutrality ; but in October Charles V. entered into a formal agreement by which, in event of success, the electoral title of his kinsman, Johann Friedrich, should be transferred to him. Thus, and thus only, could Moritz become a prince of the first rank in the empire. That he was greatly indebted to the relative whose title and a part of whose lands he would thus appropriate did not weigh with him. He hesitated no longer. Acting in conjunction with the emperor's brother, Ferdinand, he attacked the Schmalkaldic lands on their undefended rear. The league fell. Though Johann Friedrich was able to drive Moritz for the moment out of his territories, he met the emperor's army at Miihlberg, on April 24, 1547, was defeated and taken prisoner. His title and more than half his lands, including Wittenberg, passed permanently to Moritz. On June 19, following, Philip of Hesse surrendered, and, like the Saxon elector, was im prisoned by the victorious Charles, who now had German Protestantism in his power. Only the lower Saxon cities, led by Magdeburg, Bremen and Ham burg,- off ered effective resistance. The collapse was as complete as it was surprising. Of the full fruits of this victory Charles V. was The Protestants Defeated. 207 robbed, however, by the pope. The emperor wished the council, which had begun at Trent in December, 1545, to take up reforms and proceed slowly, hold ing itself ready to make moderate doctrinal conces sions to the defeated Protestants. The papacy feared councils, and desired that that of Trent should define Catholic doctrine, hold a short session, and go home. The emperor wished the Protestants to share in the council, the pope did not. And Charles's rapid victories filled the pope with alarm lest the emperor's wishes regarding the council should be more influential than his own. Accord ingly, in March, 1547, Paul III. declared the council adjourned to the papal city of Bologna, where it might be more fully under his control. The vic torious emperor was now placed in the curious posi tion of an opponent at once of the pope and of the Protestants, yet an opponent who was engaged in an attempt to reunite the divided Church. At the Reichstag held at Augsburg in 1547-48, he therefore came forward with a proposition of his own for the settlement of the religious questions of Germany. The Protestants were compelled to agree to submit to the council, which the emperor would bring back to Trent, and meanwhile a provisional arrangement — the Augsburg Interim — should be in force, whereby priestly marriage and the cup for the laity were in deed to be permitted, but Roman doctrine, worship and government were essentially to be restored. By decree of the Reichstag, the Interim gained legal authority on June 30, 1548; but it was ex tremely unpopular, and was only partially and super- 208 The Reformation. ficially enforced save where the emperor was specially powerful, as in south Germany. Nowhere was it more disliked than in Saxony ; and there the new elector, Moritz, procured the adoption, in December, 1548, of a modified arrangement — the Leipzig In terim — prepared by Melanchthon and other theo- logians, as well as by lay advisers of the elector. It was a pitiful document. The doctrine of justifica tion by faith alone was, indeed, preserved, and the extremer Catholic teachings were modified, but Roman worship and government were largely re introduced as "things indifferent;" and in a pri vately intended though widely published letter, Melanchthon affirmed regarding his dead colleague : " Formerly I bore an almost unseemly servitude, since Luther often gave way to his temperament." Doubtless Melanchthon, the man of peace, sincerely believed that it was better to preserve what con cessions could secure for the Protestant churches rather than risk their total destruction, and his statement regarding Luther was true ; but it is not surprising that inflexible Lutherans such as Matthias ^Flacius, known from the region of his birth as Illyricus (1520-75), or Nikolaus von Amsdorf (1483- J565), from the defiant city of Magdeburg;1 attacked the Interims and charged Melanchthon, by reason of his compliance with that of Leipzig and certain doctrinal departures from Luther's teachings, with apostasy from the Christian faith. The bitter in ternal dissensions of Lutheranism had begun. Unpopular as the Interims were, the emperor seemed, nevertheless, likely to succeed in his pur- The Interims. 209 poses of inducing the pope to follow his wishes as to the approval of the council at Trent, and of forcing the Protestants to recognize in the council a proper judicial body to decide their questions of faith. Paul III. was induced to abandon the rival council at Bologna ; and in May, 155 1, by the con sent of his successor, Julius III. (pope 1550-55), the council was reopened at Trent. In January, 1552, the civil representatives of Saxony and Wiirtemberg appeared before it, and theologians would also have followed had not the emperor suddenly experi enced a defeat even more complete than his victory of 1547. Many causes contributed to create opposition to Charles V. The unpopularity of the Interims was one. But even more influential were the fears which the emperor's efforts to increase the imperial authority by political centralization and to secure ultimate succession to the imperial throne for his son Philip — the later Philip II. of Spain — aroused in the German territorial rulers, Catholic and Prot estant. Much sympathy was felt for the defeated ex-elector and landgrave in their protracted im prisonment. But this public sentiment would have availed little had it not found a capable leader in the same Moritz of Saxony who had cost Protes tantism so dearly in 1546 and 1547. The character of Moritz is one of the most puzzling of the Reformation age, chiefly because in a century in which religious considerations largely shaped men's actions his thoughts seem almost exclusively polit ical. Various reasons may be given for his rising 210 The Reformation. opposition to the emperor. The continued im< prisonment of his father-in-law, Philip of Hesse, irritated him. The opportunity to put himself right with the prevailing Protestantism of northern Germany, and to lead in the next great political movement, attracted him. It is probably useless to attempt to guess the range of his thought. He may have followed the political impulse of the moment with no further intent than to grasp its immediate advantage ; or there may have risen be fore him that vast conception which Frederick the Great and Bismarck were to make real — the concep tion of a dominant German state built on the ruins of the divided empire, having its seat in north Germany, and wresting the control of German affairs from the line of Austria. Whatever may have been his aspiration, in rising from the position of a noble of the second rank to the electorate and to the control of the most powerful territory in northern Germany, Moritz had gained all that the emperor could give him. All further progress for him lay in opposition to Charles. Moritz did not at first betray his altered purposes. An excuse for placing himself at the head of a large army he found most conveniently in the command of the forces besieging the strongly Protestant city of Magdeburg — a command to which he was desig nated by the emperor and the Reichstag in the autumn of 1550. In February, 1551, Moritz came to a secret understanding with the warlike Margrave Johann of Brandenburg (Hans of Kiistrin, 1535— 71) regarding common action for the release of The Emperor Defeated. 2 1 1 the imprisoned princes and opposition to the em peror; and the confederacy was soon extended, through Johann's mediation, to Johann Albrecht of Mecklenburg and Philip of Hesse's eldest son, Wilhelm. The allies next applied to Henry II. of France and to Edward VI. of England for financial help. On January 15, 1552, the French king en tered into an agreement by which, in return for money to aid the conspirators, and a renewal of the war against Charles V., he was to be permitted to take possession of the great imperial border-fortress cities of Metz, Toul, Verdun and Cambrai. It was, indeed, as an " imperial vicar ' ' — that is, as recog nizing their integrity as part of the empire — that Henry was to rule these cities ; but their alienation, and the actual annexation to France of the three first named, was a sorry price to pay for foreign as sistance in the internal disputes of the empire. Meanwhile Moritz had made easy terms with Magde burg. Head thus of a free army already in the field, supported by the forces of Hesse and Brandenburg- Culmbach, and sure of French assistance, Moritz pushed rapidly southward against the emperor in March, 1552. On April 4, he took possession of the great imperial city of Augsburg. The Catholic princes, jealous of the emperor's recently increased power, put no hindrances in his way. Charles V. was at Innsbruck in the Tyrol, unable as yet to get together any formidable body of troops. Thither ward Moritz pressed. Only flight by night and a slight delay of the oncoming forces by reason of a brief mutiny over arrears of pay saved Charles from 212 The Reformation. falling into Moritz's victorious hands. The gigantic plans which the emperor had so patiently, and ap- parently so successfully, wrought out for the re union of the Church and the development of the imperial power were suddenly shattered. The Prot estants were further from the Roman communion than ever. His French foes had mastered an im portant portion of the empire. His life-work was in ruins. Charles gave over the negotiations for peace largely to his brother Ferdinand, and, after discus sions at Passau and near Frankfort, an agreement was reached — the Treaty of Passau — in July, 1552, by which the imprisoned Saxon and Hessian princes were released, and toleration was granted till a Reichstag should decide how the religious question could best be settled. It was not till three years later, at the Reichstag held in Augsburg in 1555, that the rights of Protes tants and Catholics in the empire were legally de fined. Before that eventful' assembly, two of the great figures on the imperial stage had- passed from the scenes. A shot fired in a battle at Sievers- hausen between the forces of Moritz and those of his unruly neighbor, Margrave Albrecht of Bran- denburg-Culmbach, on July 9, 1553, resulted two days later in the death, at the still youthful age of thirty-two, of the scheming, selfish, able and efficient Saxon elector and the loss to German Protestantism thereby of its most talented, though least deserving political leader. The passing of his greater oppo nent, Charles V., was less dramatic, but he, too, Charles V.'s Last Days. 213 ceases now to be an actor on the stage of German affairs. Disappointed and broken in spirit and feeble in body, his thoughts turned from the Ger many of his recent defeats to the newer and more alluring prospect of winning England for the Roman Cause and for his own family interest by the mar riage of his son Philip to Queen Mary — a marriage that took place on July 25, 1554. That summer he handed over to his brother Ferdinand full authority to conduct the affairs of Germany. Ferdinand's reign now really began, though it was not till Sep tember, 1556, that Charles formally surrendered the imperial crown, and not till February, 1558, that the resignation was formally 'accepted. Charles had decided to lay down all the cares of state. By suc cessive acts he bestowed upon his son Philip (1527- 98) his Italian possessions (1554), the Netherlands (October, 1555), and thA crown of Spain itself (Jan- uary,vi55'6).3* Thx.vi^p'eriyVthrone he could not obtain for • P-hih|h5,i^it;vJG;ermany and Spain, so strangely/unitedsuni|^j||4 rule of Charles V., could be not longer even ^foefely! joined. In February, 1557, the wear^eni^eiir^i-^eached his resting-place, the ' monastery of St. .ij^ome at Yuste, in Spain. He did not become a monk. He allowed himself many enjoyments in food and drink. He wrote and received many letters, and 'advised his son much on the conduct of affairs. But, most of all, he gave himself up to the exercises of mediaeval piety. He uttered his regret that he had not burned Luther when he had him in his power at Worms in 1521. But Charles's life was soon over. On September 21, 214 The Reformation. 1558, he died. Cold, calculating, far-sighted, pa tient, it was his fate to be ruler of two most diverse lands, Germany and Spain, at the most difficult moment in European history, the outbreak of the great religious revolt. That revolt he never under stood. He could never grasp its deeper spiritual meaning. But he sought, in his own way, the puri fication and the union of the Church ; and though his way was not that of the largest human progress, his must always remain one of the great figures on the Reformation stage. The military struggles between Catholics and Protestants in Germany, from 1546 to 1552, had resulted in the successive defeats of both parties, but not in the thorough subjugation of either. The materials for further contests were still present. But both sides wanted peace. Yet it was not easy to for mulate the basis on which peace should be secured. To recognize the existence of two Churches was to abandon a great historic thought — that of the visi ble, organic unity of Christendom. But on no other terms than mutual toleration could peace be se cured ; and, after long negotiation, the new law of the empire was enacted by the Reichstag on Sep tember 25, 1555. By the provisions of the Augsburg constitution, peace and equal rights in the empire were guar anteed to the adherents of the Roman Church and to those of the Augsburg Confession. To no other Protestants, whether Calvinists, Zwinglians or Ana baptists, were any rights whatsoever conceded. It was not religious toleration, in the modern sense, The Peace of Augsburg. 215 that was intended. The individual inhabitants of a district were not left free to choose Catholicism or Lutheranism as their form of faith. That choice was allowed only to territorial rulers. Whichever the local prince or the government of an imperial city professed was to be the religion of all the subjects — a principle often expressed in the phrase, cufus regio, ejus religio. Yet subjects who disliked the re ligion of their rulers were given the rights to sell their goods in a fair market, and to emigrate freely to some other territory — a great advance on punish ment for heresy. So far there was fairly ready agree ment. But two perplexing questions remained. What was to be done about the church-lands al ready confiscated by the Protestants ; and what was to be the policy toward clerical rulers of territory who might hereafter become Protestants? In re gard to the lands, the date of the Treaty of Passau was arbitrarily fixed as the norm, all that was then in Protestant hands being allowed to remain undis turbed. But for the future it was conceded to the Catholics that when a Roman spiritual ruler should become a Protestant, instead of carrying his lands and his subjects with him, he should resign his post and possessions. Yet one further difficulty re mained. Within territories ruled by Catholic spir itual princes, by bishops and archbishops, were many Protestant cities and nobles. These the Protestants would not desert to the operation of the principle cufus regio, ejus religio. They could not secure their protection by the Augsburg law itself, but they ob tained from Ferdinand a contemporary Declaration 216 The Reformation. that such nobles and communities in lands owning a spiritual head as had long been Protestant should remain undisturbed. So peace came at last, not wholly to the satisfac tion of either side, with concessions to both. The settlement was denounced by the pope. It had in itself seeds of future quarrel. But there can be no doubt that it was as fair an agreement as could have been reached at the time. For Protestantism it was a great victory, since it gave to the Lutheran churches a full legal standing. Yet it was a victory not without its drawbacks. The Lutheran move ment must, after all, remain only a party in Chris tendom, face to face with the Roman. An all- embracing reformation of the whole Church in accordance with Luther's conceptions was mani festly impossible. But if external peace came to German Lutheran ism in 1555, that year marked no cessation in the bitter internal quarrels regarding doctrine which had distressed the Lutheran communions since the In terims. To a large extent these disputes were the natural fruitage of the emphasis laid by the reform ers on correctness of doctrine. That, emphasis was inevitable. They had separated from the papal sys tem primarily because of what they deemed its doctrinal errors. They found the test of the very existence of the Church in the pure preaching of the Gospel. They necessarily regarded as of the highest importance agreement as to what pure doctrine was. Yet, even before Luther's death, Melanchthon had departed from Luther's beliefs in several important Melanchthon's Theology. 217 particulars. Convinced of the danger of a miscon ception of the doctrine of justification by faith alone on the part of the undiscriminating and ignorant, he emphasized more than Luther the necessity of good works, not indeed as a means but as an indispensable evidence of justification. He came, secondly, even before the Augsburg Confession Was prepared, to the conviction that the strict view of predestination which he had presented in the first edition of the Loci and which Luther had championed against Erasmus needed substantial modification. The human will has some real freedom. It is a coop- erant, though subordinate, factor in conversion. The Gospel is freely offered to all. " God draws man, but he draws only him who is willing." To this thought of the working together of the human will with the Divine Spirit and Word in conversion the name synergism has usually been given. And in a third, aftd yet more important, article of belief Melanchthon gradually drew away from Luther. Till after the composition of the Augsburg Confes sion he had accepted Luther's view of Christ's pres ence in the Supper. But from the time that he read CEcolampadius' s Dialogus of 1530, his view began to alter. The doctrine of Christ's physical ubiquity he abandoned. He ceased to hold that Christ was physically present in the bread. He viewed the words of institution as symbolic. But he neither reached the memorial view of Zwingli nor Calvin's theory of a spiritual presence received by faith alone. To Melanchthon, Christ was always some how truly present to believer and unbeliever alike 218 The Reformation. in the Supper ; but he found less and less satisfac tion in Luther's explanation as to the mode of that presence. His modification of view appeared in the altered edition of the Augsburg Confession put forth in 1540. It is illustrative of Luther's generous af fection for Melanchthon that these partial estrange ments of view, though pointed out to him by offi cious friends, led to no rupture ; yet Melanchthon undoubtedly felt a good deal of constraint at times in Luther's presence, and feared that their friend ship might be broken off. Some attacks were, indeed, made on Melanch thon's orthodoxy by would-be stricter disciples of Luther during Luther's lifetime. Johann Agri- cola, Conrad Cordatus, and Nikolaus von Amsdorf assailed Melanchthon's teachings on the use of the moral law, good works and other questions. But it was only after the acceptance by Melanchthon of the Leipzig Interim that the storm broke forth with all its fury. It has already been pointed out how defiant Lutherans like Matthias Flacius attacked Melanchthon from such retreats as Magdeburg as a traitor to the Evangelical cause. The division but increased after Protestantism was restored. In what was now electoral Saxony, under Moritz and his brother and successor August (elector 1553— 86), Melanchthon's views long were accepted as the normal Lutheran type. But the stricter Lu therans of the Amsdorf and Flacius party branded the sympathizers with Melanchthon as Philippists, and found support in the princes of the old deprived Saxon electoral line, who looked upon Doctrinal Controversies. 219 Melanchthon's continuance at the University of Wittenberg, now alienated from their control, as a desertion of a family which had done such conspicu ous service for the Evangelical cause. In some measure, as an offset to the Universities of Leipzig and Wittenberg, which now belonged to the line that had gained the electoral title through Moritz's defection from the Protestant cause, the deprived Saxon house sought to magnify the school at Jena, which was made a university in 1558, and given a strongly anti-Melanchthonian character by the ap pointment of Flacius to one of its professorships. Theological disputes sprang up thick and fast, and, in the existent insistence on purity of doctrine, each was magnified into a vital question. Georg Major (1502-74), then superintendent at Eisenach, having affirmed that good works are necessary to salvation, was attacked by Amsdorf, who, in his vehemence, went to the extreme of asserting that good works are a hindrance to the Christian life. Neither of these contestants was, probably, as far from the other as he seemed to his opponent, and Amsdorf probably meant by injurious good works such works as a man trusted as having a salvatory value in themselves ; but the Lutheran camp was filled with the din of battle. Melanchthon's " syn ergism " drew the fire of Amsdorf and Flacius. But that thoroughgoing champion of original Lu theranism, Flacius himself, in 1560, advanced the disturbing proposition, in his recoil from Melanch thon's admission of free-will as a factor in conver sion, that original sin has become the very substance 220 The Reformation. of man's nature and that the human will always actively resists God. This brought down upon Flacius the wrath not merely of the Melanchtho- nians, but of many of the stricter Lutherans who had hitherto been his friends. Parallel to these disputes ran others of equal fierceness. The eminent reformer of Nuremberg, Andreas Osiander (1498-15 52), driven forth by the Interim, found a refuge and a post of influence in a pastorate and professorship at Konigsberg. There, in 1549 and 1550, he advanced the view that justifi cation works not an imputation of Christ's right eousness, but a positive righteousness in the one justified due to the continual mystical infusion of Christ's divine nature. He laid stress on the incarnation rather than on the sacrifice of Christ. To his thinking, Melanchthon was a minister of Satan ; yet not merely Melanchthonians but Flacius and other strict Lutherans attacked Osiander, and even his death did not end the bitter strife. The same year that witnessed the death of Osiander, 1552, beheld the outbreak of an attack upon Melanchthon and his party by the strict Lutherans led by a strenuous opponent of Calvin's : doctrine of Christ's presence in the Supper, Joachim Westphal, of Hamburg (i5io?-i574). Westphal accused them of " Crypto-Calvinism " — that is, of a secret introduction of obnoxious Calvinistic theo ries, and the bitterness of the dispute was height ened by the fact that, largely under Westphal's influence, the north German merchant-cities re fused to receive the poor Marian exiles *rom Doctrinal Controversies. 221 England because those refugees sympathized with Calvin on the disputed question. Calvin's energetic defence of his doctrine but added fuel to the flames, the more so that he claimed that Melanchthon was essentially of his opinion. No wonder that, as the much-harassed Melanch thon neared his end, he gave as one reason why he wished to lay down an earthly career that had been so full of conflict and criticism that he might escape " the rage of the theologians." On April 19, 1560, the peace-loving, scholarly, pure-souled friend of Luther came to the close of his useful life, and he rests in the Castle Church at Wittenberg by the side of the older and more vehement reformer with whom his name must be forever joined. Melanchthon's death made, however, no differ ence in the theological disputes within the Lutheran camp, or in the attacks upon his modifications of Luther's teachings. But, till 1574, the Philippists continued dominant in electoral Saxony and con trolled its universities, Leipzig and Wittenberg. On that most disputed question of Christ's presence in the Supper, the Philippists more and more fully approached Calvin's position. In the year just mentioned, however, Elector August turned upon the Philippist theologians, in whom he now per ceived a degree of Calvinism that he had thus far not suspected, deposing the now discredited Witten- i berg professors, and imprisoning the leading Philip pists, among them Melanchthon's son-in-law, Kas-j par Peucer (1 525-1602). A medal was struck com memorative of the deposition of the Wittenberg 222 The Reformation. teachers, who were represented on it as visibly as sociated with the Devil. On the death of Elector August in 1586, the Philippists raised their heads under Christian I., only to be struck down again and their leaders persecuted when he was succeeded by a regency in the name of Christian II., in 1591. Out of this confused conflict came, however, in 1577, an important Lutheran symbol — the Formula of Concord. This last of the great Lutheran creeds was the product of an almost infinite amount of nego tiation encouraged by several Lutheran princes and carried out by a number of theologians, of whom Jakob Andreae (1 528-90), of Tubingen, Martin Chemnitz (1522-86), of Brunswick, and Nikolaus Selnecker (1530-92) were the chief. On June 25, 1580, the fiftieth anniversary of the Augsburg Con fession, the Formula of Concord was published by the Elector August. It was intended es an end to the perplexed strife of the previous years. Not as extreme as Flacius and some of his associates, it never mentions Melanchthon's name, it quotes Lu ther with most reverential deference to his authority, and it leans decidedly to the stricter Lutheran side. As one turns its pages and compares its minute, technical, scholastic discussions with the brief, fresh statements of the Augsburg Confession, one feels himself in a wholly unlike atmosphere. The fresh, free period of investigation is gone, a new confessionalism, hair-splitting, learned, dry, has taken its place. When Lutherans so divided among themselves, a union with the Calvinists who were pressing, from Doctrinal Controversies. 223 1563 onward, into western Germany was incon ceivable. To the stricter Lutherans they seemed as objectionable as the Catholics. Germany was di vided into three religious parties. No wonder that, under these circumstances, Prot estantism in Germany began slowly to lose ground before the awakening Catholicism of the counter- Reformation. A careful Italian diplomat estimated the Lutherans, immediately after the Peace of Augs burg of 1555, at seven-tenths of the population of the empire. To other Protestant sects he credited a fifth, and to the Catholics only a tenth of the peo ple. Possibly his figures exaggerated the Protestant strength ; but the Roman party might well feel dis couraged. Many, Protestant and Catholic alike, believed that the empire was about to tear itself wholly loose from Rome. Probably that result would not, in any event, have occurred. But cer tainly soon after the year 1570 was passed, if not before, the detrimental effects of Protestant dis putes and divisions were discernible. Protestantism has never since held so large a relative portion of Germany as in its flood-tide in the third quarter of the sixteenth century. Its own divisions were, in the seventeenth century, to threaten its political ex istence. But, whatever its shortcomings, the Lu theran movement had struck its roots deep and for. ever into German national life. It had presented a new and fruitful view of the way of salvation. It had emphasized the Christian home. It had fos tered not the least winsome of the varying types of Christian piety. It had successfully substituted the 224 The Reformation. ^— — — — ^-^^— . . i authority of Scripture for that of the papacy and of the mediaeval Church. Above all, it had, with all its limitations, greatly advanced intellectual and re ligious freedom. CHAPTER VI. CALVIN AND HIS WORK. RANCE, unlike Germany or Spain, seems to have had little popular con sciousness of a religious mission in the Reformation age. The Reformation movement brought great turmoil and much civil strife to the land ; but its people as a whole were never profoundly penetrated by Evan gelical ideas as were those of Germany. The French Protestants probably never numbered more than a tenth of the population of the land. Nor, on the other hand, were the French such convinced and strenuous supporters of the older Church as the people of Spain. Situated between Germany and Spain geographically, France was, to some extent, a debatable ground between the two types of Reformation that were to divide Europe. Yet the vast preponderance of the population was always on the Roman side. Politically, France presented a great contrast to Germany. East of the Rhine all was division. In France, national unity, thanks to Louis XI. (king 1461-83), Charles VIII. (1483-98) and Louis XII. (1498-15 1 5), had reached a higher development than 225 226 The Reformation. elsewhere in Europe. Under Francis I. (1515- 47), the life-long rival of Charles V. for the political headship of Christendom, France had a popular sovereign, a brilliant court and military glory. The wars with Charles V. turned out badly for France, but they had the approval of the French nobles. Francis himself was affable, dignified, courteous, impetuous, dissolute. The cool and far- seeing Charles V., though not of blameless moral life, seemed, in comparison with Francis, a man of deep religion and character. Francis had no pro found religious convictions. His admiration for the humanistic scholarship of his age inclined him to be tolerant where tolerance cost him nothing. Probably had he viewed the Reformation simply from a religious standpoint, he would have been largely indifferent to it. He had not the slightest hesitation about entering into league with foreign Protestants, or even with the Turks, when it suited his political advantage. But two political consid erations always limited, and often overbore, Fran cis's tolerance. He desired to cultivate the good> will of the pope as a military and spiritual ally in his struggles with Charles, and he wished that the French Church should be unaltered in constitution and undisturbed by contention. From that Church, Francis drew great revenues. By him in reality its higher officers were nominated. It was a mighty organ of political power, and the king viewed any alteration in its constitution as likely to weaken his own throne. Hence, though naturally rather easy going, Francis persecuted Protestantism as soon as it became at all powerful. Forces at Work in France. 227 In Francis's gifted elder sister, Marguerite d'An- goulSme (1492-1549), toleration was a principle of force, and the protection that she afforded to Protestants, and, indeed, to men of liberal ideas generally, made her an important factor in the story of the French reformatory movement. Married, in 1509, to one of the prominent nobles of the French court, the Duke d'Alencon, she exercised a power ful influence over her royal brother, to whom she was warmly attached, while by her second marriage, in 1527, two years after the death of her first hus band, to Henri d'Albret, king of Navarre, she became the head of a little court at N6rac (in B6arn or French Navarre), less than a hundred miles north of the Pyrenees, where she granted a protection elsewhere denied on French soil to many opponents of Rome as long as she lived. The reformatory movement entered France through the doorway of the revival of learning. Indeed, its founder, Jacques Le Fevre (1455 ?- 1536) of Etaples (Faber Stapulensis), was always primarily a humanist. A man notably diminutive of figure, modest and gentle in bearing, of wide learning and deep piety, Le Fevre was not adapted for the rough work of a Luther, but he won devoted friends for his views. From 1507 to 1520, his home was in the abbey of St. Germain-des-Pr6s, at Paris, of which his friend, Guillaume Briconnet (1468- 1533), better known from 15 16 onward as bishop of Meaux, was for some years abbot. Here Le Fevre turned from the study of the classics to that of the Scriptures, aided by the monastery library. As 228 The Reformation. fruits of his new labors, appeared, in 1 509, his Com mentary on the Psalms; and, in 15 12, his exposi tion and translation of the Pauline epistles, in the preface to which he asserted the unique authority of the Bible, declared salvation unmerited, denied the merit of good works, criticised priestly celibacy and the sacrificial doctrine of the mass, and affirmed a reformation to be at hand. Le Fevre had thus, in 1 5 12, arrived at many of the positions that Luther did not attain till some years thereafter. But Le Fevre, though a man of courage, was not a leader like Luther, and France was not ready as was Germany. In 1522 he continued his Biblical studies with a Commentary on the Four Evangelists, which the ancient theological school of Paris, the Sor- bonne, condemned in 1523, as it had already two years before his opinions regarding Mary Magda lene. Le Fevre found protection, however, from his friend Bishop Briconnet, and wa= appointed by him general-vicar of Meaux in 1523. But the more strenuous persecution inaugurated by the regency that ruled France after the capture of Francis I. on the battle-field of Pavia, compelled Le Fevre to fly to Strassburg two years later. Francis, on regain ing his liberty, called the exile home and made him tutor to the royal children and librarian at Blois ; and, at the request of Francis and Marguerite d'Angouleme, he labored on a translation of the Bible which Calvin's cousin, Pierre Robert Olivetan ( ?— 1 538), completed and published in 1535 and made the version in general use by the Protestants of France. But increasing persecution imperilled Jacques Le Fevre. 229 his life at Blois, and Le FeYvre's last days were spent in the shelter of Nerac, where he died in 1536, without ever having formally separated from the Roman Church, but in essential sympathy with Protestantism. Thanks to the seed sowed by Le Fevre and the circulation in the land of the early publications of the Saxon reformers, the Evangelical movement soon gained a considerable, though scattered, fol lowing in France. But the government gave no reason to doubt its hostile attitude. Though Fran cis I. at first exercised a measure of toleration, as illustrated in the case of Le Fevre, he soon came to treat the movement as one involving ecclesiastical and civil disorder. Iconoclastic outbreaks, in 1528, strengthened popular antagonism ; and though the French government occasionally modified its policy when coquetting for political advantage with the German Protestants, as in 1532, its course was pre vailingly one of severe repression. Met by a perse cution far more fierce than anything Protestantism had to endure in Germany, the struggle in France assumed a bitterer aspect than beyond the Rhine. The vacillating, but ultimately hostile, attitude of Francis I. was well illustrated in the case of Louis de Berquin (1490-1529), a nobleman of Artois. A man of marked piety and humanistic reformatory spirit, he enjoyed, soon after his twentieth year, the personal friendship of Le FeYvre and Marguerite d'Angouleme, and was appointed one of the royal council. Attracted to the writings of Luther and Melanchthon, he translated one of Luther's treatises 230 The Reformation. and wrote in a similar spirit. For this he was im- prisoned, in 1523, by the Parlement of Paris, the highest civil tribunal. But the prompt intervention of Francis I. saved him from condemnation. Seized again in 1526, he was once more rescued by the king, who this time wrote in De Berquin's favor from his Spanish imprisonment. In 1529, De Ber quin was for the third time arrested, and was con demned to the stake. Francis now declined to in terfere, and De Berquin died by fire at Paris on April 17th. When a noble was thus dealt with, humbler heretics could expect little tolerance. While the Reformation spread thus in certain cir cles in France during the third and fourth decades of the sixteenth century, it was in French Switzer land that it first became dominant, and from that vantage-ground outward that its greatest influence on France itself was ultimately exerted. The man who first planted the Evangelical doctrines in French Switzerland was Guillaume Farel (1489-1 565). Born of a prominent family at Gap, he studied at Paris under Le F&vre and taught in the College of Car dinal le Moine. With the permission of Bishop Briconnet, he began preaching in the diocese of Meaux in 1521, but his fiery nature and violent de nunciations led the bishop to withdraw his license in 1523, and Farel soon fled for safety to Basel. Here, though favorably received by CEcolampadius, he found an enemy in Erasmus, and was expelled from the city. Strassburg was next the scene of his turbulent career, and from there he journeyed to Switzerland, settling, in 1526, at Aigle, in French- Farel, Viret and Froment. 231 speaking Vaud, then part of the territories of Berne. With the victory of Protestantism in Berne, in the public disputation of January, 1528, in which Zwingli, CEcolampadius and Bucer took part, Farel received a roving commission as a reformatory preacher from the Bernese government, and at once set himself to proclaiming Evangelical opinions in the French-speaking territories under Bernese in fluence. There was a storm everywhere he went, but he met much success. He preached the Ref ormation at Lausanne, Orbe, Avenches, and, with special effectiveness, at Neuchatel. He visited the Waldenses of Piedmont, and brought them into connection with the Reformation movement. And among the friends and associates whom he inter ested in these strenuous labors, two were conspicu ous, Pierre Viret (1511-71) and Antoine Froment (1508-81). Viret, though a native of Orbe in Switzerland, had studied at Paris, and there had come, it seems prob able, under Evangelical influence. Returning to Orbe, he was there aroused by the fiery Farel, in 1531, and labored with much success in his native town, though his largest work was to be in Lau sanne (1536-59) and Geneva, and his last days were to be spent in France and Navarre. Froment was from the same district of France as Farel, and, like him, acquainted with Le Fevre and Marguerite d'AngoulSme, by whom he was befriended. From 1529 onward for a number of years, he labored to gether with Farel in the same missionary enterprises, and was as fearless and vigorous as he. Ultimately 232 The Reformation. he left the ministry and fell into disgrace for a time. He later partially recovered his good name, and died a notary at Geneva. Farel, Viret and Froment it was who introduced the Reformation into the most important city of French Switzerland. The dawn of the sixteenth century found Geneva torn by factions to which its peculiar mixed govern ment gave ample footing. Its highest ruler was the bishop of the city, possessed of the rights of taxa tion, coinage and supreme command in war. Under him, yet appointed by the neighboring dukes of Savoy, was the vidame, who executed legal sen tences and had a minor civil and criminal jurisdic tion. Besides these officers there were four " syn dics " and a treasurer, not appointed by the bishop or the vidame, but chosen by the citizens (bour geois), who met in semi-annual assembly, and, in ad dition to choosing these officers, made certain classes of laws and treaties. The syndics exercised juris diction in all capital criminal trials. To them and to the treasurer were joined twenty citizens as the "Little Council" — a body from which ultimately developed, by the addition of the chiefs of the wards and of other advisers, a second assembly — the ' ' Coun cil of Sixty. " It is evident that such a system had in it abundant elements of dispute, and that, aside from divisions among the citizens on other ques tions, three parties would naturally arise, those of the bishop, of the duke of Savoy, and of the cham pions of municipal independence. In reality, how ever, the interests of the Savoy and of the episcopal parties were generally, though not invariably, united, Geneva. 233 since the bishopric was held, in the early years of the sixteenth century, by relatives or dependents of the house of Savoy. Geneva itself bore the repute of a turbulent, luxurious and pleasure-loving city. The dukes of Savoy were anxious to bring it more fully under their control ; but certainly from the be ginning of the bishopric of John, "the Bastard of Savoy," in 15 13, a considerable party of the citizens of Geneva, led, till his execution in 15 19, by Phili- bert Berthelier, by his companion and successor, Besancon Hugues, and, in a less degree, by Francois Bonivard (the "Prisoner of Chillon "), strove with varying success for independence from Savoy and for confederation with the neighboring Swiss can tons. After tedious struggles, a league was formed with Freiburg and Berne in 1526, and the party of municipal liberty attached the interests of the city fully to those of Switzerland. Berne became Prot estant in 1528, while the duke of Savoy and the bishop of Geneva supported Roman interests. Hence this new political alliance with Freiburg and Berne, begun without thought of religious modifica tions, favored the introduction of the Evangelical movement into Geneva; and, by 1530, the " Coun cil of Two Hundred," which had been established at the beginning of the alliance, in imitation of the constitution of the northern Swiss cantons, was in clined to reform measures. In June, 1532, that council ordered the vicar-general of the diocese to see that the Gospel was preached in its purity. But the Roman party was still strong, and it was not till October, 1532, that, on the arrival in Geneva of the 234 The Reformation. fiery Farel, Protestantism was powerfully repre sented. Conflict followed immediately. Farel had to leave the city ; but Froment continued his work. Yet he, too, had soon to flee, and though Geneva now contained many sympathizers with the new views, the Roman party held the upper hand for some months longer. But Bernese influence se cured protection for the reformed party in 1533, and Farel renewed his labors, supported by the able Viret. Public worship after the new order was first conducted on March 1, 1534, by Farel. In July and August, 1535, the innovators felt strong enough to take possession of the principal Genevan churches, and on the 27th of the month last mentioned the Council of Two Hundred forbade the mass. Further reformatory measures were enacted in May of the following year by which the abolition of the older ecclesiastical system was completed. Few cities could have been less adapted than Geneva, however, to the strenuous moral and spiritual discipline which Farel and Viret attempted to introduce. A stormy municipal republic, led to alliance with the move ment for radical religious reform by political con siderations rather than profound religious convic tions, and noted for its license of life, Geneva was easily aroused, but with difficulty controlled, by Farel. Farel knew his limitations well ; and, in July, 1536, his almost prophetic declaration of what he believed to be God's will enlisted in the work of Genevan reformation the services of a passing French refugee — the ablest organizer and profoundest theo logian that the Reformation produced — John Cal- Calvin's Early Life. 235 vin. With the coming of Calvin, Farel's own sig nificance in the Franco-Swiss reform movement soon became secondary, though he continued to be strongly influential. Banished from Geneva in 1538 with Calvin, he labored at Neuchatel, which con tinued to be the main scene of his activities till his death in 1565, though his restless nature led him to interrupt his Neuchatel ministry by reformatory preaching in Metz, Gap, and many other places. John Calvin was born on July 10, 1509, in the little episcopal city of Noyon in Picardy, about sev enty miles northeast of Paris. His father, Gerard Cauvin, was secretary to the bishop of Noyon and fiscal agent for the district — a position which brought the family prominent acquaintances and an honorable and well-to-do station ; but led Gerard, about the time that John was seventeen, into finan cial irregularities, and ultimately to excommunica tion, as a consequence of a dispute over accounts with the cathedral chapter. How far Gerard may have been blameworthy is still a debated question, and certainly during all of John's boyhood his father stood well with the ecclesiastical authorities. The mother was Jeanne Lefranc, a woman of piety ; but her influence on her famous son was slight, as she died while John was still a boy, having borne her husband two daughters and four sons. Of the three sons who grew to man's estate, the reformer was the second. Religious by nature, and perhaps by his mother's early training, his ambitious father pro cured for the boy the best education that the region and the time could offer. His first schooling he en- 236 The Reformation. joyed in company with the boys of the family of Montmor, a branch of the prominent noble line of Hangest, and to this happy association and its con sequent friendships, Calvin owed a certain grace of manner and ease of social bearing which the more humbly trained reformers generally lacked. Further and more advanced instruction than Noyon could afford was expensive, however, and, in 1521, Gerard Cauvin therefore procured for his twelve-year-old son a share in the revenues of the chapel of la Gesine in the Noyon Cathedral — an ecclesiastical holding which was increased six years later by the living of St. Martin de Marteville. Such holdings were then frequent and implied no pastoral labor — the ser vices being conducted by a hired priest ; and the boy who held them had advanced no further on the road to the clerical profession than the reception of the tonsure. Thus provided with funds, Calvin entered the College de la Marche at Paris, with his friends the Montmors, in August, 1523, finding his lodging in the house of an uncle. In the college he came under the tuition of one of the first teachers of the age, Mathurin Cordier (c. 1479-1564), who, though already famous, preferred to instruct rudimentary classes, that his students might have the better training. To Cordier, Calvin owed the thorough grounding in Latin style that made him ready master of that learned tongue to a degree rarely attained even in that age of renascence scholarship; and to Calvin, Cordier later owed in turn his leader ship of the schools of Protestant Geneva, Neuchatel Calvin's Education. 237 and Lausanne. From the College de la Marche Calvin soon passed to the ascetic and strongly theologic Coll6ge de Montaigu, a little later to be the alma mater of Ignatius Loyola. Here his talents in dialectics were speedily developed, and here he studied till the close of 1527 or the begin ning of 1528, winning for himself a reputation for marked abilities, for a strenuous and critical moral ity and for earnestness, but living neither as a misanthrope nor as an ascetic, as has often been rep resented to have been the case. By the time that Calvin was completing his studies at the College de Montaigu his father was entering on the more serious stage of the financial dispute with the ecclesiastical authorities at Noyon; and, at his instance, probably agreeing with the young man's own anti-ecclesiastical inclinations, Calvin turned from the preparatory studies of a theologic course to those leading to the law, and left Paris, the home of theology, for Orleans and Bourges. At Orleans he remained from about the beginning of 1528 to the spring of 1529, enjoying the instruction of Pierre de l'Estoile, when desire to hear that eminent jurist's great rival, Andrea Alciati, drew him to Bourges. At both universities he came under the instruction in Greek of a German Protestant professor of eminence, Melchior Wolmar (1496-1561). Some time in the winter or spring of 1 53 1, Calvin was called from Bourges to Noyon by the illness of his father, and after his father's death, which occurred on May 26, he turned from the study of law, to which his father's desires had held §3§ The Reformation. him, to that of the classics at his familiar Paris. Francis I., moved by the new learning, had estab lished certain " royal readers," who represented the new humanistic impulse over against the conserva tism of the Sorbonne. Under Pierre Danes and Francois Vatable of this new foundation, Calvin now further perfected himself in Greek and Hebrew, cultivating the classics assiduously at the same time. And the fruit of this new study, the first of Calvin's long series of publications, appeared, in April, 1532, in his Commentary on Seneca's De dementia. Many have sought to find in this mar vellously well-read work of a young man not yet twenty-three years of age a bold protest against the intolerance of his age. With equal positiveness others declare it to be a purely scholastic humanis tic treatise. But though it shows no sympathy with the Protestant Reformation, it reveals in its author a remarkable acquaintance with ecclesiastical as well as with classical literature, a deep sense of human sinfulness, and a strenuous morality. A few weeks after the publication of this treatise saw Calvin back in Orleans for a stay of perhaps a year, and, in the early autumn of 1533, he was once more in Paris, where he was soon to take a step that left no doubt of his decided Protestantism. No question in Reformation history is more ob scure than that of the circumstances of Calvin's con version. Regarding his own spiritual experiences, Calvin was always loath to speak. Even his friend and biographer, Beza, appears not to have been thoroughly informed, and to have attributed to Calvin's Conversion. 239 Calvin an Evangelical activity at Orleans and Bourges of which there is no contemporary proof. The eventful years of Calvin's student life were, however, a period of much religious discussion in France. In 1523, the year in which he entered the College de Marche, Le Fevre's Commentary on the Four Evangelists had been condemned by the Sorbonne, and Le F&vre himself had become gen eral-vicar of Meaux. Louis de Berquin's tragic story had unrolled itself before his eyes as he studied logic in the Coll6ge de Montaigu, presided over by Berquin's bitter opponent, Noel Beda, and began acquaintance with law at Orleans. His teacher, Wolmar, was a German Protestant ; his later instructor, Vatable, was a disciple of Le Fevre ; his relative, Olivetan, was attached to the Evangelical faith, apparently as early as 1528. In 1532 Calvin himself lodged in Paris with Etienne de la Forge, a prominent adherent of Evangelical views, who was burned in 1535. The debates and companionships of his student years cannot fail to have made Calvin well acquainted with the main points at issue between Catholicism and Protest antism. But when Calvin himself became a Protestant is still a disputed question. The two most recent in vestigators of this problem, Lang and Doumergue, take incompatible views, the former holding that his acceptance of Protestantism was a sudden event, occurring between August 23 and November 1, 1533; and the latter that it was a gradual process essen tially completed, if not publicly manifested, some 240 The Reformation. months earlier. Calvin's own intimations show that the process was one of struggle and of sudden and, he believed, divine illumination. It seems not im probable that Calvin's curious and active spirit, trained in the free, critical atmosphere of humanism, may have long been intellectually familiar with Evangelical opinions, and in a measure have felt their power, but may have yielded full submission to them suddenly and through a conviction that only in so doing was he submitting his will to the will of God. Almost equally disputed is the step by which Cal vin first made his Protestantism evident. The state ment of Beza, accepted by his latest biographer, and not without apparent contemporary confirmation, is that Calvin prepared for his friend, the physician, Nicholas Cop, who was chosen rector of the Paris University in October, 1533, an address delivered on November 1, of that year, in which Protestant doc trines were boldly advanced, and a Protestant cam paign inaugurated. The discourse which has come down to us is drawn in large part from Erasmus and from Luther. That Calvin thus spoke through Cop seems, on the whole, the more probable opinion ; but the whole story has been disputed by historical critics whose views are worthy of respect, and it is not without serious difficulties. Those who reject the Cop incident would see in Calvin's resignation of his benefices at Noyon, in May, 1534, his definite adhesion to the newer beliefs. But, whenever and however Calvin's conversion occurred, it involved the abandonment of brilliant Calvin's Conversion. 241 prospects for the life of a fugitive and an exile. He was not long without experiencing its severity. The same month that he resigned his benefices he was imprisoned as a disturber of the religious peace in his native city. How Calvin spent the few months between November, 1533, and this imprisonment of May, 1534, is uncertain; but the early representa tions seem credible that he had to leave Paris on account of the excitement aroused by Cop's ad dress. If so, he may well have spent the winter of 1533—34 in the hospitable home of his friend, Louis du Tillet, canon at Angouleme and pastor of the neighboring village church of Claix. Here in a city which enjoyed the protection of Marguerite d'An- goulSme, and with the aid of Du Tillet's extensive library, he probably sketched out the first draft of the Institutes. And from AngoulSme, where he bore the name of Charles d'Espeville for protection, he made, probably about April, 1534, a flying visit to Nerac to see the aged Le Fdvre, before going to Noyon to resign his benefices in May. Released from an imprisonment at Noyon of uncertain length, he went, probably for the second time, to Angou leme, though, so uncertain is the exact chronology of this portion of his life, that this may have been his first visit thither ; and from Angouleme he ap pears to have gone for a brief stay to Poitiers, and thence, late in 1534, to the familiar Orleans. There he wrote his Psychopannychta, to deny that the soul sleeps between death and the resurrection — a little tract that was not printed till eight years later. But an injudicious attempt to advance their cause, made 242 The Reformation. on the night of October 17, 1534, now rendered France more than ever a difficult country for the residence of Protestants. Placards denouncing the mass, prepared by the intemperate pen of Antoine Marcourt, a French refugee at Neuchatel, were affixed to the blank walls of Paris, and read amid great popular excitement. Francis I. was enraged, the more so that one of the placards was secretly affixed to the door of his bedchamber ; and, with his approval, persecutions now became more severe than before. A public procession of great pomp was held, in January, 1535, to expiate the scandal, and many Protestants were burned. Yet Francis wished the political aid of German Protestants, and therefore wrote to them within a few days of this procession attempting to vindicate his course as due to the peculiarly anarchistic and rebellious character of the French sympathizers with the new doctrines. A few months later Francis carried this discrimina tion between French and German Protestants so far as to urge Melanchthon to come to Paris. This sudden storm of persecution led Calvin to leave France with Du Tillet, probably in February, 1535. He journeyed by way of Strassburg to Basel. Settled in the comparative peace of a Swiss Prot estant city, under the protection of an assumed name, Martin Lucanius, Calvin aided Olivetan by preparing a Preface for that translator's version of the Bible ; and, what was vastly more important, he finished his Institutes in August, 1535, though they were not issued from the press till March, 1536. To the Institutes he prefixed a noble letter The Institutes. 243 addressed to Francis I., but designed also to be read by the German Protestants to whom the French sovereign had so grievously slandered the French innovators, presenting with great beauty of style and cogency of argument the purposes, character and faith of the French reformers. This master piece of defensive literature, and the no less remark able theologic treatise to which it was prefixed, gave a European significance to their author, who counted but twenty-six years when he wrote them. The Letter foreshadowed that unquestioned leadership among French Protestants which his work at Ge neva was speedily to demonstrate. The Institutes gave promise, even in their early form, of a dog matic power which was ultimately to rank him with the few great theologians of Christendom. The Institutes, in their original Latin dress of 1536, were far, indeed, from the bulky treatise that Calvin ultimately made them. The six moderately extensive chapters of 1536, on Law, Faith, Prayer, True Sacraments, False Sacraments and Christian Liberty, form a compact hand-book. Calvin worked upon the Institutes all his life. In their second edi tion, published at Strassburg in 1539, they may be said to have attained their doctrinal completeness ; in their radical revision and total rearrangement for the edition of 1559 they reached their ultimate logi cal form. The ablest doctrinal treatise that the Ref ormation produced, their power was speedily recog nized by friend and foe alike. No theological ex position since the Summa of Aquinas has had so profound an influence or gained so lasting a fame. 244 The Reformation. The Institutes have the power that comes from in tellectual grasp, clearness of statement, confidence of conviction, high-wrought spiritual earnestness, and an iron cogency of logic that draws its conclu sions resistlessly once its premises are admitted. No slight attraction toward Calvin's writings lay in the vivacity and readableness of the Latin and of the French garbs in which he clothed them. Cal vin's work was never obscure. It was never dry, And his Institutes were designed for the general reader no less than for the technical student of the ology. While Calvin's theology grew in the range of doctrine treated and in the sharpness with which his views were defined and logically interlinked, as suc cessive editions of the Institutes were put forth, unlike the theology of Melanchthon, it was never essentially modified, and most of its later character istics were already apparent in the edition of 1536. Anything like a synopsis of Calvin's theology is, of course, impossible within the limits of this chapter ; but four of its salient features demand at least a passing glance that his work and influence may be understood. In his presentations of Christian truth, Calvin stood on the general platform already attained by the Protestant leaders. With them he holds that the Bible, which he views as attested to the individual believer by the testimony of the Spirit, is the only final and sufficient authority. With them he re gards justification by faith as the sole way of salva tion. With them he maintains that the only priest- Calvin's Theology. 245 hood is the priesthood of all believers, and that all ministers are spiritually equal. With them he de nies the sacrificial character of the mass and all that is connected with purgatory and a treasury of good works. But while thus standing on the common ground that the Protestant reformers had already reached, Calvin shows strong peculiarities of em phasis and individuality of presentation. The corner-stone of Calvin's structure, and, ap parently, the pivotal fact of his religious experience, was the sovereignty of God. An overwhelming sense of the divine majesty and of the duty of man to submit to its sway stands behind all his argu ment. In the light of that thought, even more than was the case with Zwingli, all his theology was moulded. That sovereignty has its chief present manifestation, as far as the destiny of the human race is concerned, in election and reprobation, both of which depend on the sovereign will of God. Re garding every man, God has from all eternity a definite, individual and unchangeable purpose of salvation or of loss ; and the ultimate reason for that purpose in any particular case is that God wills it so to be. This strenuous doctrine was presented in a comparatively undeveloped form in the edition of 1536. Election was dwelt upon. Reprobation, though mentioned, was not elaborated. But, as Calvin's exposition of his system unfolded, the theme received fuller and sharper treatment. There was, probably, nothing more strenuous in Calvin's doctrine of election than had been expressed in Luther's reply to Erasmus or in Melanchthon's ear- 246 The Reformation. lier positions. But, as was already said of Zwingli in a similar connection, the emphasis was very dif ferent. With Calvin election is a much more cen tral doctrine than with Luther ; while Melanchthon in his later theology moved in a direction opposite to that which Calvin represented. Much more peculiar to Calvin, though not so vital to his system, were his views of the sacraments; and especially of that hotly contested point, the nature of Christ's presence in the Supper. On these matters the edition of 15 36 presented Calvin's essentially completed thought. The sacraments he viewed as "witnesses of the grace of God declared to us by external symbols. ' ' They have no magical quality. They serve to confirm God's promises to us. In regard to the Supper, Calvin stood between Luther and Zwingli, holding with Zwingli that Christ's words, "this is my body," are symbolic rather than literal, but inclining strongly to sym pathy with the Lutheran emphasis of a presence of the Lord in the Supper. That presence — and here Calvin made his great contribution to the discussion — is not physical, but a presence of spiritual power, on account of which those who partake of the Sup per in faith, and those only, receive from it Christ's benefits. To Calvin's thought, as expressed in the Insti tutes of 1536 and greatly elaborated in their later editions, the holy Catholic Church is "the whole number of the elect." This conception of the true Church as in the last analysis the invisible Church, Calvin shared with Wiclif, Huss and Zwingli. But Calvin's Theology. 247 while the elect constitute the Church known to God, outside of which there is no salvation, the Church as known to man's imperfect discrimination is the visible association composed, to quote Calvin's expression of 1559, of those "who by confession of faith, regularity of conduct and participation in the sacraments, unite with us in acknowledging the same God and Christ. ' ' That visible Church, fellowship with which is essential to the Christian life, is marked by soundness in doctrine, discipline and sac raments. But while the whole number thus united are the visible Church universal, those grouped in particular villages, towns or countries are also fittingly spoken of as churches and possess a govern mental unity. The proper officers of these churches, Calvin taught, certainly from 1541 onward, are those designated by Christ and the apostles. They are pastors and teachers whose work may be expressed as that of the pastoral office, lay elders to assist in discipline, and deacons to care for the poor. En trance on the ministry is by a twofold call — an in- ward impulse toward the office and an invitation from the Church. As early as 1536, Calvin had 'come to the conclusion regarding the summons of the Church which he expressed, in 1559, as follows: "Ministers are legitimately called according to the Word of God, when those who may have seemed fit are elected on the consent and approbation of the people. Other pastors, however, ought to pre side over the election, lest any error should be com mitted by the general body either through levity or bad passion or tumult." 248 The Reformation. The effect of this doctrine of the right of the local congregation to share in the choice of its minister, and hence of his responsibility to it, has been incal culable in the development of popular liberty. Lu ther early abandoned a somewhat similar position for dependence upon princes. The Anglican Ref ormation of Henry VIII. and Elizabeth had no room for such a principle. But, like Zwingli's thought which Calvin made his own, that obedience ceases when rulers command anything contrary to God, this vigorous and practical assertion of the rights of the Christian congregation has proved one of the great seed-contributions to political and re ligious freedom. For the argument lies near at hand that if ministers are chosen, then they are responsi ble to those by whom they are elected. And if spiritual rulers are responsible to those whom they serve, why not temporal magistrates, even kings? Calvin himself did not draw these conclusions in their fulness ; but what his lessons taught, English Puritanism and Scotch Presbyterianism, no less than the Protestantism of France and of Holland, were to show. To Calvin's thought, though not always in his Genevan practice, Church and State are independ ent, yet in harmonious cooperation. The civil ruler's first duty is to aid the Church, and to pre serve its purity even by the punishment of heretics and other offenders ; but the Church is not subject to him. Calvin's position herein was more that of the Roman Church than that of any other of the reformers ; but his congregations were republican Calvin's Theology. 249 bodies, in the government of which laymen fully shared. The mention of discipline as one of the marks of the Church calls attention to a fourth peculiarity of Calvin's teaching — the emphasis which he laid on the cultivation and enforcement of a strenuous morality. In Calvin's thought the elect are not merely called to forgiveness, they are "called unto holiness." The natural man cannot of himself do good works — he is totally depraved ; but the renewed man must do good works by the power of God's grace working in him. As Calvin expressed the thought in his edition of 1559, "we are justified not without, and yet not by, works." Here, again, the difference between Calvin and Luther is one of emphasis ; but it is a difference of great consequence. In Luther's thought, good works are the spontaneous outflowing of justification by faith. To Calvin, justification and regeneration are more separated, though intimately related, experiences. The new life of regeneration is, more than in Luther's conception, a life of strug gle and of conscious effort for holiness. Hence Calvin laid greater weight on the "Law" than Luther ; holding as strenuously as the great Wit tenberg reformer that our salvation is of grace and not by conformity to its precepts ; but emphasizing the value of the moral Law as a guide to Christian conduct much more than Luther did. From 1536 onward, Calvin saw in this regulative and instructive use of the Law by those already Christians its chief value. Enforcing thus the necessity of a strenuous morality, Calvin emphasized the worth of church- 250 The Reformation. censures ; holding it to be a prime duty of the Church to discipline offenders for their own good and that of the Church itself. Discipline, he taught, is one of the chief gifts entrusted to the Church for the training of its members. Discipline became, therefore, in a much higher degree than in the Lu theran Churches, a characteristic of those that bore Calvin's impress. In Calvin's system the individualism of the Ref ormation age attains its fullest and most logical expression. Salvation or loss is taught to be based on an individual relationship to the plan of God. Calvin's doctrine seems "hard" to much of the thinking of our own age. It did to his. But it is only historic justice to point out that the lessons which Calvin and those who accepted his theology drew from it were those of encouragement rather than of supineness or despair. He, most thoroughly of all the reformers, taught the Protestants what to answer to the Catholic claim that religion is largely a corporate matter, and that outside the visible Roman Church there is no salvation. Such an answer as his the hard-pressed Protestants of France needed. To an Evangelical believer of Amiens or of Paris, living among a people that wished his physical death and that believed and tried to impress upon him that by separating himself from the ancient communion he had doomed himself to death eternal, the thought must have come as an unspeak able strength and consolation that God had had a plan for him, individually, from before the founda tion of the world ; that God had chosen him to life ; Calvin's Theology. 251 that the whole power of God was behind him ; and that nothing that any man, be he priest or magis trate, could do could frustrate the divine purpose in his behalf. Similarly, too, Calvin's theology taught its disciples the lesson of individual responsibility for a strenuous moral life as no other presentation of Christian truth had yet done. It emphasized character in an age that needed men of strength. If its beauty and sweetness were sacrificed to its force, as they undoubtedly were, it nerved strong men for battle when conflict was the duty of the hour. About the time that the first edition of the Insti tutes was coming from the press, in the spring of 1536, Calvin made a rapid journey to Italy, in order to advance the cause he had at heart by making the acquaintance of a French princess of Evangelical in clinations — a sympathizer with Le Fevre and Mar guerite d'Angouleme — Renee, duchess of Ferrara. The friendship thus begun resulted in a life-long re ligious correspondence. After a brief stay at Fer rara, shortened perhaps by inquisitorial opposition, Calvin hastened secretly to Noyon, whence he speedily set out, accompanied by his brother, An- toine, and his sister, Marie, intending to make a home for them and for himself in Strassburg or Basel. Warlike threatenings between France and Germany barred the direct route ; and in July, 1536, Calvin was halted in his journey, as already narrated, by Farel while passing through Geneva, and per suaded by Farel' s adjurations and warnings against his scholarly reluctance that God had called him to take up the active duties of a reformer in the turbu- 252 The Reformation. lent little city-republic, that then numbered not far from twelve thousand inhabitants. At Calvin's coming, the ancient Church had already been done away by the citizens under Farel' s leadership, and the city government had entered into full control of Genevan ecclesiastical affairs. It had ordered at tendance on sermons under penalty of banishment and suppressed all religious days except Sunday ; but these external changes were about the extent to which the Genevan Reformation had attained. Calvin's work began modestly at Geneva. He held no office at first ; but served as Farel's assist ant, expounding the Scriptures in lectures of great popular success in the cathedral. But Farel and Calvin were determined to organize Geneva into a church under strict discipline, rather than leave affairs to the direction of the magistrates ; and, in November, 1536, they submitted to the city coun cils a Confession of Faith and a Catechism for indi vidual adoption by all the citizens. The election in February, 1537, favored the reformers, and, in July following, the citizens, in groups of tens, were re quired to assent to the Confession, the penalty for refusal, as defined in November of that year, being banishment. Meanwhile, about the beginning of 1537, Calvin had been appointed by the city govern ment one of the three city pastors, the others being Farel and a blind old French refugee, of burning eloquence — a former monk, Elie Corault (?— 1538). Under the new r6gime discipline was strongly en forced. Men were appointed by the magistrates in each section of the city to watch over morals, while Beginnings at Geneva. 253 churchly censures and civil punishments were threatened to offenders. Several severe cases of punishment occurred for what had heretofore scarcely been regarded as offences. At the same time the schools were bettered, attendance made compulsory, and public worship improved. These strenuous changes, introduced by three ministers, no one of whom had lived long in the city, naturally aroused a storm. The first attack was from without, when, in February, 1537, Pierre Car- oli, a French refugee pastor at Neuchatel, who was ultimately to return to the Roman Church, charged the Genevan ministers with Arianism, since they had avoided the words " Trinity " and " person " in the Confession for the sake of simplicity, and re fused to sign the damnatory Athanasian Creed. A vigorous defence by Calvin refuted the charge in the judgment of a synod held at Lausanne and of the Bernese authorities, as well as of the Strassburg reformers. Far more serious was the disaffection in Geneva itself. Many refused to bind themselves by the Confession, which seemed to some of the most re spected citizens a severer bondage than that from which the city had escaped in throwing off the yoke of the bishop. The election of February, 1538, was carried by the disaffected, though Protestant, ele ment. Calvin and Farel' s discipline could not be enforced. And the party opposed to them was strengthened by the countenance of Berne, the gov ernment of which powerful and aggressive canton now insisted that such minor changes in public wor- 254 * he Reformation. ship should be made at Geneva as would bring it into conformity with the Bernese observances. The Genevan authorities supported the Bernese requests. But Calvin and his associated ministers would not admit the right of the civil government to regulate the Genevan Church at its pleasure. There was a higher law than that of magistrates — the Word of God. Corault was forbidden by the government to preach by reason of his plain-speaking. Calvin and Farel refused to celebrate the communion by rites imposed simply by civil authority, though Calvin at least seems to have regarded the Bernese rites as in different in themselves. As a consequence of this refusal, they were banished in accordance with votes passed on April 22 and 23, 1538, by the councils of Sixty and Two Hundred and the general assembly of citizens. Calvin and Farel had failed to estab lish the Genevan Church as an independent spiritual power side by side with the civil government. The latter had asserted its superiority. In so doing, it had followed the usage of all German-speaking Protestantism. Farel resumed his ministry at Neu chatel. Calvin went to Strassburg. For Calvin's larger work this banishment was a great advantage. The still youthful reformer needed time for study and acquaintance with a wider circle. At Strassburg he found both. He revised and re issued his Institutes in 1539. He defended the Evan gelical movement in a letter, that became one of the classics of Protestantism, addressed the same year to the humanistic and moderate bishop of Carpentras, Cardinal Jacopo Sadoleto (1477-1547), who tried to Calvin at Strassburg. 255 win Geneva back to the Roman allegiance. He be came intimately acquainted with the Strassburg re formers, Bucer, Capito and Hedio ; and was one of the representatives of his adopted city in the debates held at Worms and Regensburg, in 1540 and 1541, when Charles V. was endeavoring to secure some peaceful basis of compromise between Catholics and Protestants. In these assemblies he met the leaders of German religious thought, with the exception of Luther, and formed a warm and enduring friendship with Melanchthon. Calvin's sojourn at Strassburg was marked by his marriage, in August, 1540, to a French-speaking widow from the Netherlands, like him an exile for conscience's sake — Idelette de Bure — "a grave and honorable woman," as Beza describes her. Of his married life we know little, though enough, in spite of Calvin's habitual reserve, to see that it was help ful and happy in the companionship of husband and wife. But the marriage was not of long duration. The wife, who was something of an invalid, died in March, 1549. The only child, a son, had been taken away in infancy. Calvin never married again. Though honored at Strassburg, Calvin's life there was one of great pecuniary limitation. But, as al ways, he was an indefatigable worker. In January, 1539, he became assistant professor of theology. He gathered a congregation of French refugees, to which he ministered as pastor, and over which he exercised a strenuous discipline ; and for this con gregation he prepared a liturgy, which became, with some modifications, the liturgy of Geneva after his 256 The Reformation. return, and thus the model for many churches. The characteristic features of Calvin's liturgy are that it made the sermon central, as in the Lutheran and Zwinglian forms of worship, but agreed with Zwingli in rejecting the ceremonies which Luther had re tained, and with Luther in developing congrega tional singing, which Zwingli rejected. At the com munion service the prayers were wholly liturgical. But in ordinary Sunday worship a place was pro vided for free prayer before the sermon, while the other prayers were written. The service opened with prayers of invocation and confession ; followed in order by the singing of a psalm, an extempore prayer, the sermon, an extensive liturgical prayer, some times another psalm, and always a benediction, The familiar order of public worship in the non- liturgical churches of England and America is de rived from the work of Calvin, who, in turn, built to some extent on the labors of the Protestant reform ers who had preceded him. Meanwhile, affairs had gone badly at Geneva for Calvin's opponents. Though the city was still strongly Protestant, the ministers were incompetent to manage its turbulent ecclesiastical condition, and the submission to Berne shown by the party which had driven Calvin forth proved very unpopular. Calvin's reply to Cardinal Sadoleto and his kindly bearing toward Geneva won him friends. The tide turned in his favor, and, in October, 1540, the Coun cils of Sixty and of Two Hundred and the general assembly of Genevese citizens invited Calvin to re turn. Calvin hesitated. He knew the burdens of Calvin's Return to Geneva. 257 the task to which he would have to set himself. But he was finally convinced that it was God's call ; Geneva pressed it ; Farel and his friends urged ; and in September, 1541, he was back in Geneva, honored by the city government, and granted a house, to gether with what for the time was a handsome sti pend. Calvin returned practically on his own terms. He was determined that a real theocracy— that is, a Church ruled wholly by the law of God as ex pressed in the Scriptures — should be erected at Geneva. That Church should be coextensive with, but not identical with, the civil community. He made it a condition of his return that the Genevese people should swear " to hold to the Catechism and to discipline " — that is, that they should put them selves under the doctrine and government of the Church. The Genevan faith was expressed in a new Catechism from Calvin's pen, issued in 1542, which had great influence wherever the Calvinistic sys tem found sympathizers. The same year saw Ge nevan worship remodelled in accordance with Cal vin's liturgy. But the most important of these series of eccle siastical modifications which marked Calvin's return to Geneva was the establishment of his system of government and discipline by the Ordinances eccle- siastiques, prepared by Calvin and his associated min isters, with the aid of six sympathetic laymen of the Genevan councils ; and adopted, with some modifications, as the ecclesiastical constitution of the Genevan Church by the several political bodies 258 The Reformation. in which the citizens were grouped, in November, 1 541. This remarkable constitution can be under stood only in the light of Calvin's emphasis on dis cipline as essential to Christian nurture and on the right of the laity to share in church-government. In accordance with the views already expressed by Calvin in the Institutes as to the proper officers of the Church, the Ordinances provided for pastors, teachers, elders and deacons. Calvin, together with four other ministers, like him of French birth, and three clerical assistants, constituted the pastors. Teachers of theology were reckoned as properly of the teaching office. The elders were twelve laymen chosen by the smallest council, and representative of that body and of the Councils of Sixty and of Two Hundred. In their appointment thus by the State, instead of by the religious community, there was certainly a departure from the theories of the Institutes and the practice of pure Presbyterianism ; but therein was only one of a number of conces sions that Calvin was compelled to make to that de sire for state control over the Church which found full play in most Protestant lands and had driven him from Geneva in 1538. To the deacons was as signed the care of the poor and of the hospitals. Characteristic of Calvin's organizing genius is the further grouping of these officers of the Genevan Church for administrative efficiency. The pastors and teachers together constituted the VMrable Compagnie, by which doctrinal questions were de bated and ministerial candidates nominated. To enter on the pastoral office, however, the further The Genevan Theocracy. 259 approval of the civil authorities and the silent con sent, at least, of the congregation to be served were requisite. More influential in the popular life of Geneva than this Ve'ne'rable Compagnie was the Con- sistoire, composed of the ministers and of the twelve lay elders. This body, meeting every Thursday, under the presidency of one of its lay members, was charged with the administration of Calvin's be loved discipline, and constituted a veritable spiritual police. It possessed the power of house-to-house visitation ; and though the Consistoire had no au thority whatever to inflict other than spiritual punishments, Geneva, under Calvin, had so far in herited the mediaeval idea that the State should co operate with the Church in maintaining the religious purity of the community, that whoever was seriously dealt with by the Consistoire was almost certain to feel the heavy hand of civil authority. Character istic of the mediaeval ideas which were long to sur vive the Reformation was it also that the civil au thorities, no less than the Consistoire, felt obligated to punish errors in belief as well as crimes in conduct. And under Calvin's influence such punishments were of great severity. Not only were torture and espionage employed by the civil authorities, but offences such as heresy and treason were grouped together as worthy of death by fire, blasphemy and adultery as of less severe, but still capital punish ment ; while neglect of public worship, luxury in apparel, gambling and dancing were all severely dealt with. Nor were these statutes any idle threats. Between 1542 and 1546 no less than 260 The Reformation. fifty-eight persons were executed and seventy-six banished from the little city. These results were the work of Calvin's iron will ; and never was there a more conspicuous illustration of the power of leadership. Calvin held no civil office ; he did not even become a citizen of Geneva till 1559. He was not even president of the Consis toire, of which he was a member. He was simply one of the pastors. His authority was that of a recognized expounder of the Word of God in a city which he had persuaded to regard that Word as the final authority. His power was the might of per suasion, of intellectual masterfulness, of will ; but he ruled as few sovereigns have done. His control was the more absolute, because it was not self- seeking, but the authority of one who was firmly convinced that what he stood for was God's law, and the critics of his doctrine whom he opposed as relentlessly as the vicious and the criminals were, like the latter, enemies of God. Yet Calvin was no fanatic ; he had his distinct ideal of a well-ordered, thoroughly disciplined, doctrinally united Christian community clearly in view, and he determined with adamantine firmness to make Geneva its liv ing embodiment. No man ever had the material and intellectual welfare of the community in which he lived more continually in view than he. By 1544, his vigorous leadership had introduced weav ing, especially of silk-goods, which speedily proved a great industrial advantage to the city ; while his care for popular education was such that he has been called, though the description does injustice to the The Genevan Theocracy. 261 services of other leaders of the sixteenth century, "the father of common-schools." These educa tional and industrial advantages worked together with religious sympathy to draw hundreds of exiles for conscience's sake to the city. Between 1549 and 1554 no less than thirteen hundred and seventy- six foreigners, mostly of French extraction, made Geneva their home. Many of them were of learn ing, ability and position ; and, as a whole, they constituted an addition to the strength and industry of the community of which any city might be proud. The facts that Geneva under Calvin's domi nance enjoyed an increasing commercial prosperity, an improved system of education, a European influ ence and repute such as its citizens had never before dreamed, and an augmenting population, go far to explain the support which Calvin enjoyed, while they distinguish his work, even from its material side, as one of the most remarkable in the Reforma tion age. Calvin's work, however, was met, as one would expect, by strenuous opposition. His severe disci pline and the growing influence of foreigners aroused the hostility of many of the old Genevan families, while honest disbelievers in his doctrines and radical sects which the Reformation movement drew in its train added their weight to the forces that he had to overcome. The hostility of the party of old Geneva is readily understood. Its motive was not enmity to Protestantism, but to Calvin's discipline and supporters ; and it aimed to assert the suprem acy of the civil government, which this party for 262 The Reformation. several years controlled, over the Church, and, there- by, to drive Calvin from the city, as in 1538. The most conspicuous representatives of this old Genevan spirit were Ami Perrin, the captain-general ; Pierre Vandel, a man to whom any strict moral discipline was irksome ; and Philibert Berthelier, son of the Genevan patriot-martyr of the same name who had given his life for Genevan liberty in 15 19. Perrin had sought Calvin's return to the city in 1541, and had been a participant in the preparation of the Ordinances ecclesiastiques ; but a strenuous process of discipline directed against him and his household, in 1546, turned him into Calvin's most embittered political opponent. Perrin and his friends gained a strong, and it often seemed a preponderating, influence in the city councils by the election of 1547 and retained it till 1 5 54. They sought to take the power of excommunication from the Consistoire, and to prevent the admission of foreigners to citizenship or to the right to bear arms. In all this they were for a time measurably successful. Calvin's position was for several years one of great difficulty. His life was threatened, his work denounced. Only his dominant personality at times saved him. But when the scale gradually turned in Calvin's favor, and the reformer sought to strengthen his grasp by admitting many of his foreign supporters to Genevan citizenship, in 1555, Perrin and his friends resorted to violence, and were condemned to death by the victorious party of Calvin — a fate which most of them escaped by a flight that made them exiles and left Calvin, from 1555 to the close of his life, practically undisputed master of Geneva. Struggle for Mastery. 263 Had the opposition to Calvin's theocracy been simply that of representatives of old Genevan tradition, it would have been far less serious than that which he actually overcame. But religious views, inimical alike to Protestantism and to the Roman system which it had replaced, worked in the city, were stimulated by opposition to Calvin's discipline, and reinforced the party which sought to drive him from power. The Spirituels, or Libertines, of whom something more will be said in a later chapter, were pantheistic mystics, who viewed per sonality as a mere passing manifestation of the one God, who is all and does all. Sin had, for them, no real existence ; and salvation or forgiveness they conceived as simply the recognition that all actions, whether men call them good or bad, are simply God's work. These views were widely spread in France, and by 1 545 at least were efficiently repre sented in Geneva, though not by any means all to whom the name Libertine was attached shared them. Anything more antagonistic to Calvin's strenuous morality would be hard to conceive ; but they found considerable acceptance with that ele ment of the Genevan population that viewed the Reformation as nothing but a rejection of ecclesi astical tutelage. The Libertines and the party of old Geneva, of which mention has just been made, were by no means identical ; but they worked together in a common effort to secure Calvin's overthrow. In Jacques Gruet, however, both ele ments of opposition were represented. Of an ancient Genevan family, he was a " free-thinker" in the 264 The Reformation. modern sense, who seems to have been the author of a bitter attack upon Calvin in an anonymous writing placed on Calvin's pulpit in June, 1547. His private papers, on search, showed him to doubt the immortality of the soul, and ultimately revealed after his death that he had adopted a position of antagonism to Christianity. Not only Calvin, but the more conservative of his opponents, saw in Gruet a man for whom death was esteemed the only fitting punishment ; and he was beheaded on July 26, 1547. Calvin had serious conflict also with far more wor thy doctrinal opponents than Gruet, and these dis putes form some of the most melancholy pages in his history. Of these, the three most important may be mentioned — those with Castellio, Bolsec and Servetus. S6bastien Castellio, or Chatillon (1515-63), was a young Savoyard humanist whom Calvin had met at Strassburg in 1540, had taken into his house, and had led to Protestantism. On Calvin's return to Geneva, he had procured for the scholarly and con- . scientious Castellio the headship of the Genevan school. But the teacher seems to have been of a rationalist and critical spirit unusual in his age; and by 1544 he had excited Calvin's fears by the expression of an opinion that Solomon's Song was not divinely inspired — a view which seemed to the Genevan leader an attack on divine revelation. With this, he coupled a criticism of Calvin's teachings on predestination and interpretation of the article in the Apostles' Creed which affirms Christ's descent Castellio and Bolsec. 265 into hell. The resultant discussions led Castellio into an attack on the Genevan ministers as proud, worldly and intolerant, and compelled him to leave the city. Calvin, to his honor be it said, gave the exile a let ter testifying to his faithfulness in office. But he was to have in Castellio a persistent opponent and critic, who assailed his employment of force in mat ters of belief with no less energy than his theories of predestination. Even more positive in his attack upon Calvin, and especially upon Calvin's doctrine of predestination, was J6r6me Hermes Bolsec ( ?— 1 5 84), once a Carmel ite monk at Paris, but settled, about 1550, as a Protes tant and a physician at Veigy, near Geneva. A natural controversialist, he censured Calvin's views on election and reprobation in private and in pub lic and brought on himself the condemnation of the VMrable Compagnie. He charged Calvin, then in the stress of his contest for the mastery of the city, with misrepresentation of the Bible and with mak ing God the author of sin. Such a charge struck at the basis of Calvin's only authority — that of an expounder of the Word of God. The Genevan civil government took up the case and consulted the other churches of Switzerland. Though their ver dict was not nearly as condemnatory as Calvin wished, it had sufficient weight, coupled with the influence of the Genevan pastors, to secure Bolsec's banishment in December, 155 1. He continued as a Protestant for some years, but his reputation was not of the best. He ultimately returned to the Roman communion, and, in 1577, took his revenge 266 The Reformation. on the then thirteen years' deceased Calvin in a scandalous biography charging the Genevan reformer with heinous moral turpitudes in early life, which, though absolutely without foundation in fact, have been repeated by the less scrupulous of his critics to within recent years. More notorious as well as more severe was Cal vin's treatment of Servetus — perhaps the most de bated episode in all Reformation history. Miguel Serveto (1509, 151 1 ?— 1553) was a Spaniard by birth, who, though educated for the law at Toulouse, won chief fame as a physician, and seems to have been the discoverer of the circulation of the blood. A man of great speculative gifts and restless spirit, he was a radical of the radicals ; and, in 1531, when but little, if at all, over twenty years of age, he published an elaborate work On the Errors of the Trinity, in which he anticipated not only much that Socinianism afterward asserted, but some specula tions widely entertained in our own century. The book made him a marked man ; but for a number of years after its publication, he devoted himself in France to scientific researches and the practice of medicine, sheltered under the assumed name of Villeneuve. He lived at Vienne from 1540 to 1553. Here he speedily began a doctrinal correspondence with Calvin, who at first treated him with courtesy, but to whom he replied with much arrogance, so that the Genevan divine at last became thoroughly in censed at his denial of the Trinity and rejection of infant baptism, and expressed the opinion to Viret, in a letter of 1546, that "should Servetus come to Servetus. 267 Geneva, he would not leave alive," if he, Calvin, could prevent. At Vienne, probably as early as 1 546, Servetus wrote his Restitution of Christianity, which he published in 1553. This remarkable volume pre sented with greater maturity the thoughts of his Errors of the Trinity, and wove them, with other views, into something like a system which the author believed to be a restoration of primitive Christianity. On the basis of an essentially panthe istic view of God, he taught that Christ was truly the Son of God, that all the Godhead was corpo really manifested in Him, but that His personality was not preexistent save in the mind of God, and really began with His earthly conception and birth. To Servetus's thinking, the Nicene doctrine of the Trinity, the Chalcedonian Christology and infant baptism were the three chief sources of churchly cor ruption. And his views were the more irritating to the orthodoxy of the sixteenth century — whether Catholic or Protestant — because of the overbearing, contemptuous and self-confident tone in which he always uttered them. The Restitution of Christianity had just passed quietly through the press, when a Genevan disciple of £alvin, Guillaume Trie, a former resident of Lyons, stung by the taunt of a Catholic correspond ent that Geneva was ill disciplined, replied that it was not Geneva but Catholic France that tolerated blasphemers, and called attention to the unsuspected Villeneuve as in reality the detested Servetus and the author of the anonymous Restitution. How far Calvin was responsible for the initiation of this 268 The Reformation. attack is still a question in debate ; but Servetus had corresponded with him about the Restitution and had sent him a draft of it, and Trie must have got his facts directly or indirectly from Calvin. The Catholic civil and ecclesiastical authorities took up the case promptly, and, in part on the strength of letters of Servetus obtained from Calvin through Trie, condemned the Spanish physician to death by slow fire. Before condemnation had been reached by his judges, however, Servetus escaped from Vienne in April, 1553, and came, of all places, to Geneva — an act for which no fully satisfactory reasons appear. He was just on the point of leaving, after a month's stay, when he was recognized, August 13, 1553, and, at Calvin's instigation, thrust into prison. The moment was one of the intensest in Calvin's strug gle with the old Genevan and Libertine parties, and to a certain extent Servetus's fate became a question to test Calvin's own grasp on Geneva. But Calvin was moved by other motives deeper than the main tenance of his rule. He believed Servetus a most dangerous heretic, the representative of that Italian anti-Trinitarianism which he regarded as one of the great perils of the Reformation. He held, also, that Servetus denied the full authority of the Bible — to do which, to Calvin's thinking, was to at tack the basis of all authority. And so Calvin soon came to urge Servetus's death. A curious and pitiful struggle now occurred. The poor pris oner, knowing that Calvin's enemies were striving for the mastery of Geneva, finally demanded that Servetus. 269 Calvin be condemned, " exterminated," and his goods handed over to himself. But Calvin's ene mies did not dare really to support so notorious a heretic as Servetus. They simply made Calvin all the trouble they could. Instead of condemning Servetus promptly, as he and the Genevan minis ters desired, they consulted the other Swiss Protes tant cantons ; and when the answers proved unfa vorable to the prisoner, they condemned him to death at the stake instead of the milder execution which Calvin preferred for him. On October 27, 1553, Servetus died a martyr's death, lectured by Farel, but unshaken in his convictions to the last. The sixteenth century was not the nineteenth, and nowhere is its unlikeness more apparent than in this melancholy story. Though a few voices, like that of Castellio, were raised in protest, the opinion of the Christian world as a whole was that Geneva had done well. Even as sweet-spirited a man of peace as Melanchthon praised the sentence. Harsh and sometimes unjust as was Calvin's dis cipline, it is but fair to remember that it appears a larger incident in his work, viewed by our retro spective vision, than it really was, and that our peaceful times are not like the stormy decades in which Calvin labored. One asks for efficiency rather than for amenities from a commander in bat tle. None could doubt Calvin's efficiency. Geneva grew in population, wealth, industry, reputation and influence under him. Nor was his work efficient alone. For one who suffered under the severe ex ercise of what he considered Christian discipline, 276 The Reformation. but which our age looks back upon with aversion as savoring of spiritual tyranny, many greeted the city which he made a refuge for harassed French Prot estantism, as did more than once rejoicing French exile, kneeling and praising God, or felt with John Knox that the orderly, sober, industrious Geneva of Calvin's later years " was the most perfect school of Christ that ever was in the earth since the days of the Apostles. ' ' Their approval may seem to us unwar ranted ; but it must be recognized, if we are to gauge Calvin's influence aright. And Calvin himself, however occupied he might be with Genevan affairs, never regarded Geneva as more than a vantage point from which the rest of Europe might be reached with the Evangelical Reformation. His attentive care took in the whole range of the movement in the non-Lutheran lands, and his influence knit together the scattered Protes tant forces outside of Germany into a compact and sympathetic, if not organically united party. Calvin was a Frenchman, and, outside of Geneva, France was the first object of his care. He made the Genevan Academy a training school for French min isters. He wrote the treatises that French Protes tants most read. He did a service for the develop ment of the French language second only to that of Luther for the German tongue. He stamped his character and his theology on the Huguenots of France, and so encouraged and directed them that, in 1559, they gathered in a national synod at Paris, where they adopted the strongly Calvinistic Con fession, in the preparation of which Calvin's pupil, Calvin's Influence. 271 Antoine de la Roche Chandieu (c. 1534-91) bore an eminent part — a Confession that with some slight modifications remained the creed of French Protestantism till the nineteenth century. The same synod organized the French Huguenot Church on Presbyterian lines drawn essentially from Calvin's Institutes, yet more democratic than the Genevan constitution, and gave it a discipline of Calvinistic rigor. Till his death, Calvin was the director and the inspiring force of the Protestantism of France. Calvin's influence was scarcely less felt in the Netherlands, Scotland and England. He welcomed their exiles. He interested himself in their affairs. He stamped his theology and his conceptions of dis cipline and of church-organization on the thinking of the Dutch, the Scotch, and the Puritans of Eng land. The doctrinal basis of the Church of Holland, the Belgic Confession, prepared in its original form by Guy de Bray (1522-67) in 1561, no less than the Confession which was given to the Church of Scot land by Calvin's friend and disciple, John Knox, and his associates in 1560, were purely Calvinistic, and the discipline of the churches which they served was modelled of the principles of the Institutes. The Thirty-nine Articles of the English Church show plain evidence of Calvin's thought; and his Insti tutes were studied and valued by Anglicans and Puritans alike under the reign of Elizabeth. Calvin's influence penetrated Zwinglian Switzer land more slowly. Indeed he himself long felt more closely related to the Lutheran than to the Zwinglian Reformation. Zurich disapproved of his 272 The Reformation. doctrine of the Supper as too Lutheran ; Basel disliked his emphasis on predestination ; Berne objected to his theory of the independence of the Church of State-control, and his rejection of Bernese claims over Geneva. But gradually Calvin's power ful influence made itself felt in German Switzerland. In 1549, Calvin and Bullinger of Zurich united regarding the Sacraments in the Consensus Tiguri- nus with some concessions on each side ; and this agreement was ratified also by the churches of Neu chatel, St. Gall, Schaffhausen and Basel. With this understanding regarding the Supper came further approximations of the French and German Swiss churches, though Berne never became friendly to Calvin while he lived, and the intense discipline of Geneva never found favor where the population was German-speaking. Though in Germany itself, hostility to Calvin, especially on account of his theory of the Supper, grew more bitter till it culminated in the stormy controversy between the Genevan reformer and Joachim Westphal of Hamburg from 1552 to 1554, and displayed itself in the long-continued crypto- Calvinistic controversies within the borders of Lutheranism, Calvinism, even before the death of its leader, won decided accessions on German soil. Under the favor of Elector Friedrich III., Calvinism was introduced into the Rhenish Palatinate, and in 1563, one of the most deservedly valued of cate chisms, as well as one of the most effective presen tations of the more moderate aspects of Calvinism, was issued as the doctrinal basis of the electoral Spread of Calvinism. 2J'C territory. The Heidelberg Catechism was the work of two youthful disciples and friends of Calvin and Bullinger, the elder of whom had also enjoyed the instruction and confidence of Melanchthon, Zach- arias Ursinus (Bar, 1534-83), and Caspar Olevianus (Olewig, 1536-87), whom Elector Friedrich had summoned to his service in the University and Court of Heidelburg. Sweetest and most experien tial in tone of any of the Reformation symbols, it won wide approval in the Calvinistic churches, was used in Scotland, and constitutes to the present day one of the doctrinal bases of the Reformed (Dutch) Churches of Holland and of America, and the creed of the Reformed (German) Churches on this side of the Atlantic. Calvinism made further inroads on German territory, gaining strong footing in Nassau, Bremen, Hesse, and Brandenburg, within half a century of the publication of the Heidelberg Cate chism. This further growth in Germany, all of which occurred after Calvin's death, was much aided by the fierce attacks of the strict Lutherans on the Philippists, and German Calvinism did not develop those disciplinary features that marked it in its Genevan home and in its French, Scotch, English and American transplantation. This wide-extended influence beyond his Genevan residence implied, whatever may have been the self- propagating force of his opinions, a vast breadth of acquaintance and of correspondence on the part of Calvin himself. He advised and counselled in the affairs of the scattered reformed bodies of western Europe ; he welcomed exiles for their faith to 274 The Reformation. Geneva; from 1559 onward for half a century his influence when living and the foundations which survived him rendered the Genevan Academy the leading theological school of non-German Prot estant Europe. And in addition to all these labors, Calvin found time for exegetical study so extensive, thorough and accurate as not merely to cover in his series of commentaries the greater part of the Bible, but to place him easily the foremost among the expositors of the sixteenth century. Calvin's work in the pulpit was constant. Every other week it was his custom to preach daily, and he gave a sermon generally every Sunday. Three times a week he lectured on theology to his students. Such a burden of labor was the more remarkable because borne by one of so feeble a frame. Even in his student days, Calvin's health suffered from long hours of study and scanty sleep. Ascetic in habit, partaking for years of but a single meal a day, busied every waking moment, emaciated and pale, he was not one to attract men to his person ality as did Luther. More powerful in his letters than the Wittenberg reformer, he could never have given to his friends the free, far-ranging table-talk that Luther's companions treasured. His life was burdened, rather than limited, by ill-health. His labors wore him out before his time ; and he died at the height of his power and in the fulness of his mental vigor, but broken in body and less than fifty-five years of age, on May 27, 1 564. It was Calvin's good fortune to have at hand a friend and fellow-laborer, of kindred spirit, if not of Calvin and Beza. 275 equal gifts, to whom he could entrust his work — Theodore de Besze (Beza). Born on June 24, 15 19, at V6zelay in the French province of Burgundy, of a family of some prominence by ancestry and by service to the king, Beza was left motherless at three, but was brought up at the French capital by an uncle who was a member of that high court of justice, the Parlement of Paris. From 1528 to 1535, during the very years that Calvin studied under Melchior Wolmar at Orleans and Bourges, the boy was a pupil in Wolmar's family. De signed by his father and uncle for the law, he settled after graduation at Paris, devoted to classical literature, moving in fashionable society, and win ning fame as a poet of talent. Here he entered into a secret, marriage with a young woman of humbler birth, Claudine Desnoz, and lived in the worldly fashion of his time and class. But a severe illness awakened his conscience and his latent Protestantism ; and, in 1 548, he betook himself to Geneva, resolved to lead a new life. As an earnest of his new intentions, he married Claudine, who had fled with him, publicly, immediately on his arrival at Geneva. After some uncertainty as to what he could do for a livelihood, Beza became, at Viret's entreaty, professor of Greek at Lausanne — a post which he held from 1549 to 1558. From Lausanne hexame to a similar instructorship at Geneva in the year last mentioned ; and, at its foundation in 1559, became rector of the Genevan Academy and its professor of theology. Thenceforward Geneva was his home till his death on October 13, 1605— the 276 The Reformation. last of the great Protestant reformers of the sixteenth century. Beza had not the genius of Calvin, but he was admirably fitted to carry on that forceful re former's work. Under him the Genevan Academy flourished and attracted students of theology from all western Europe. Under him the study of law was promoted by the foundation of a law school and the services of eminent instructors in juris prudence. Calvin's theology, as taught by him, was essentially unchanged; though it passed through that process of increasing desiccation and rigidity which usually marks the transfer of a system from a creative mind to that of a disciple and defender. And Beza had much of Calvin's wide-looking eccle siastical generalship, also. Till years and feebleness limited his activities, the interests of the Evangelical cause, especially in France, were his constant care ; and many, as well as perilous, were the journeys that he undertook as in some sense the bishop of the Huguenot churches. His experience of the world, his gentleness and wit, and a certain courtly grace of manner well fitted him for the role of a mediator, while his courage and conviction made him a leader. In Beza, Calvin's work lived on, without creative genius, indeed, but characterized by the same ideals that kept Geneva a centre of learning and industry, as well as a model of what Calvinistic discipline believed that a Christian com munity should be, and made the head of the Genevan Church a uniting and directing influence among the widely scattered forces of Calvinism, CHAPTER VII. THE PROTESTANT MOVEMENT CARRIED TO OTHER COUNTRIES. j|HE story of the revolt from Rome thus far considered has been that of the Prot estant revolution in the lands of its origin, Germany and Switzerland, with a glance at its development in a neigh boring country, France, to which the movement was not native, indeed, save in the humanistic type of a Le Fevre, but which, through the genius of Calvin, gave to it a peculiar theological and disciplinary de velopment that rendered the French conception of the Reformation no less influential than the Ger man. The Protestant revolt spread quickly to other lands than those just named ; but everywhere, save in England — a country that does not come within the scope of this volume — either the type of Sax ony or of Geneva was essentially reproduced. Yet in each country which Protestantism penetrated there were local variations in its manifestation, due to political, social or religious conditions. First in point of time of gaining possession, as well as most direct in its connection with the earli est source of Protestantism — that of Wittenberg — was the Protestant movement in the Scandinavian 277 278 The Reformation. lands. Nowhere, not even in England, was the rev- olution more intermingled with politics. In all the Scandinavian territories, but especially in Sweden, the introduction of Protestantism was largely gov ernmental in its origin, and was fostered by a desire to limit the powers of the bishops and reduce the land-holdings of the Church for the benefit of the crown. In Denmark and Sweden, moreover, the time was one of political revolution. As com- pared with that of Germany, of Switzerland, or of Scotland, the Scandinavian Reformation was not a popular movement, nor one involving profoundly the religious feelings of the people. Denmark, Sweden and Norway, at the opening of the sixteenth century, had been loosely joined for a hundred years (since 1397) in a single monarchy. In all three lands the Church and the nobles or great landed proprietors were able to limit the authority of the king in large measure. Late in the fifteenth century, Sweden, under the lead of one of its power ful noble families, that of Sture, had practically rejected the rule of the Danish king, though Danish interests were vigorously supported by the bishops. Christian II. of Denmark (king 1513-23) attempted to enforce the royal authority in Sweden. An unsuccessful effort to compel Swedish allegiance in 15 18 was followed by a more fortunate attack upon Swedish independence in 1520; but, in spite of a promise of amnesty to his recent opponents, Christian II. seized and executed the Swedish patri otic leaders in November of the year last mentioned —an outrageous breach of faith which is called the Sweden. 2 79 "Stockholm bath of blood." Far from accomplish ing Christian II. 's purpose, this massacre of the leaders of Sweden only intensified Swedish oppo sition to Danish rule. And, at this juncture, one of the most remarkable men of action of the Reformation epoch, a young noble, related to the family of Sture, Gustavus Vasa (Gustaf Ericssen Wasa, 1496-1560), put himself at the head of a Swedish national uprising, defeated the Danes at Westerns in April, 1521, just as Luther was leav ing Worms, and in August became administrator of the land. On the deposition of Christian II. by his Danish subjects, in 1523, who came to dislike him almost as thoroughly as did the Swedes, Gustavus was given the title of king by a Swedish diet, and with him began a royal house of remarkable talents, under which Sweden was to gain an influence hith erto unimagined in European affairs. This thorough political revolution led to the im mediate introduction of the Saxon type of reforma tion into Sweden. Gustavus, while a fugitive from Christian II., had met Luther, with whom he had begun a correspondence. The Swedish bishops had been supporters of Denmark. The new Swedish monarchy must increase its power and wealth if it was to become independent of the nobility, and the most feasible method seemed to be to gain posses sion of church-lands. All political elements of the situation conspired with the personal preferences of Gustavus to render a revolt from Roman authority desirable. Lutheran views had already been advo cated in Sweden by the brothers Olaf (1497-1552) 280 The Reformation. and Lars (1499- 1573) Petersen, both of whom had studied at Wittenberg ; and an archdeacon of Streng- n'as, Lars Andersen (1480-15 52), of great executive talents, had already been won for the new opinions when Gustavus assumed the crown. Yet Gustavus moved with some degree of moderation at first. While the papal legate was won for the king's side, the new sovereign supported the Lutheran sympa thizers. Andersen was made chancellor of the king dom, Lars Petersen became professor at the Univer sity of Upsala in 1523, and Olaf Petersen, after holding the rectorship of the academy at Strengnas, became a preacher at Stockholm. With royal ap proval, Olaf Petersen married in 1525, the same year as Luther. A year later, a translation of the New Testament into Swedish was put forth by Andersen and the Petersens. But it was not till Clement VII.'s quarrel with Charles V. that Gustavus deemed the time fully ripe to break with Rome. After a public discussion of the main points in dispute, in which Olaf Petersen championed the Protestant cause, Gustavus forced a national diet at Westerns in 1527, under threats of his own abdication, to submit the Church to his rule, to surrender the episcopal castles and the monas teries to him, to put the disposition of Church rev enues into his hands, and to allow the free exercise of Lutheran worship The consent of the nobles to these high-handed confiscations was won by the release to them of all lands that the Church had re ceived from them since 1454. Gustavus followed this victory by dividing the larger bishoprics and Sweden. 281 appointing Lutheran incumbents. Though the new officers were Lutheran, the episcopal titles were re tained, and the new bishops received consecration at the hands of the single remaining representative of the old Roman hierarchy of Sweden, Bishop Magni of Westeras — a tenuousness of the stream of "apostolic succession" that has led to denial of its continuity by some other episcopally organized Protestants. The archbishopric of Upsala, still the head of the Swedish Church, though shorn of its old judicial authority over the other bishoprics, was given to Lars Petersen in 1 53 1. Under the leadership of Olaf Petersen, energeti cally supported by the king, Swedish public worship was revised in very conservative Lutheran fashion in 1529 and 1 53 1 ; and a collection of Swedish hymns was issued in 1530. Gustavus was a severe and grasping master ; but he was a man of great effi ciency, who knew how to use all elements of the population for his purpose of building up the mon archy. In spite of insurrections, he had his title declared hereditary in 1 544. To him the foundation of modern Sweden was due. But it was the king rather than the religious cause that had popular approval in the Swedish Reformation. Earnest as was the Evangelical zeal of the Petersens or of Andersen, the people of the land were not touched by the Protestant spirit as were those of northern Germany. For them, as a whole, the Reformation was a political rather than a religious movement — a phase in a national political revolution rather than a profound religious change. It was long before 282 The Reformation. the land could be called assuredly Protestant. Gus tavus himself had to beat down a great insurrection that was certainly intensified by Roman sympa thy, between 1537 and 1543 ; and under Gustavus's younger son and second successor, John III. (king 1568-92), the Jesuits, supported by the king himself, believed the restoration of Catholicism feasible. But fifty years of independence had intrenched Protestantism too deeply, at last, to make a return to Roman obedience possible. While a revolution was thus making Sweden a Protestant land, a similar transformation was taking place in Denmark. Christian II., whose cruelty was the immediate occasion of the successful revolt of Sweden against Danish sovereignty, was anxious to diminish the power of the great landholding clergy and nobles in his home kingdom and to raise that of the middle class as a counterweight. In this effort he favored the introduction of the Lutheran movement into Denmark, and invited Luther himself or some of his preachers to under take the work. By the close of 1520, Luther's friend, Martin Reinhard, was preaching through an interpreter at Kopenhagen. Luther's restless col league, Carlstadt, followed him for a few weeks. Christian II., in 1521, put forth laws forbidding appeals to Rome, permitting priestly marriage, and limiting the temporal power of Ae bishops. The next year he made many changes in the city governments of his realm. But the qualities which he had displayed in Sweden, though not so drastically exhibited in Denmark, rendered him unpopular and Denmark. 283 brought discredit on his reforms. In 1523, Chris tian II. was driven from the land and his uncle was made king as Frederick I. He occupied the Danish throne for ten years. Though Frederick I. at his accession had to swear opposition to Lutheranism, and the condemnation of Christian's II. 's slight reforms felt by the dominant party was expressed by the burning of his statute- book, the Lutheran movement made rapid headway among the people. Chief among its preachers was Hans Tausen (1494-1 561), often called " the Danish Luther," like Luther of peasant birth, and, like him, also a monk, who had been a student at Wit tenberg in 1523. Returning to Denmark in 1524, Tausen preached Lutheran doctrine and was im prisoned for a short time as a heretic. On his release, he labored with power in Wiborg, only to be once more incarcerated. But now Frederick I. set him free and made him a royal chaplain and, in 1529, pastor of one of the important churches of Kopenhagen. This act of the king was illustrative of his increasing favor to the Protestant cause — a favor shown in a decree which he obtained from the national diet at Odense in 1527, by the aid of the nobles who made common cause with the monarchy against the power of the bishops, granting toleration to the preachers of the new doctrine till the much- talked-of universal council should settle the dis putes of Christendom. In 1530, Tausen and his associates prepared, at the command of the king, a confession in forty-three articles. By 1533, when Frederick I. died, Lutheranism had taken firm root in many parts of Denmark. 284 The Reformation. On the death of Frederick I. a complicated struggle took place in Denmark. Christian II. attempted to regain the throne, with the aid of the commercial cities of the Hanseatic league, Liibeck, Stralsund and Rostock, and the support of Kopen hagen, all of which were jealous of the rising power of independent Sweden, and favorable to Christian II. 's burgher sympathies. Frederick's sons, Chris tian and John, entered the field, also, on opposite sides ; Christian having the support of the Protes tants and of many of the nobles, and John of the bishops. In the struggle, Prince Christian won, and secured the throne as Christian III. (1533-59); and his victory determined the religious future of Denmark. A conservative Lutheran Reformation was now enforced by the government, the bishops were removed and imprisoned, their lands confis cated, and Luther's friend, Johann Bugenhagen (1485-1558), was summoned from Wittenberg to crown Christian III. (August 12, 1537), and to re organize the Danish Church. Public worship was now conformed to the Lutheran model ; and, in September, 1537, Bugenhagen ordained seven " su perintendents " in place of the deposed bishops. To them the name of bishops, which they still bear, was soon given ; but they could, of course, lay no claim to "apostolic succession" by episcopal ordi nation. These events in Denmark carried with them the Lutheranization of the associated territory of Nor way. By 1536, Christian III. was recognized in the southern portion of that land, while the northern Norway and Iceland. 285 part favored Christian II., through the influence of the powerful archbishop of Trondhjem. But Christian III. soon gained the upper hand here also, and the archbishop was compelled to fly. Popu lar feeling had little sympathy with the Lutheran Reformation ; but royal authority carried it through on the same lines as in Denmark. The final strug gle of the new doctrine for the possession of the Scandinavian lands was in Denmark's far-off terri tory of Iceland. Gisser Einarsen, a pupil of Luther at Wittenberg, appointed Lutheran bishop of Skal- holt in 1 540, was the chief advocate of Protestantism in the island ; and his efforts were aided by the publication, in the year just mentioned, of an Ice landic translation of Luther's New Testament. But Iceland was not easily won. Under Bishop Aresen, the Roman party rose in 1548, and its resistance was not overcome till 1 5 54, when Luther anism was enforced with a heavy hand. While the Reformation, in its Lutheran type, was thus powerfully extended northward through the aid of political movements, it made considerable, though less extensive, conquests to the eastward and south eastward of its original German source. By 1523, Albrecht of Brandenburg-Ansbach(i490-I568),ruler of the eastern territory of old Prussia, as grand-mas ter of the Teutonic Order by which the land had been conquered in the thirteenth century, had vis ited Wittenberg and sought Luther's assistance in introducing ecclesiastical and political changes into his land. Through the preaching of Luther's friend and pupil, Johann Briessmann (1488-1549), at 286 The Reformation. Konigsburg, and of the Lutheran hymn-writer, Paul Speratus (1484-15 51), Prussia was rapidly won for the Evangelical side, and Georg vbn Polentz (1478- 1550), bishop of Samland, became the first Roman prelate to embrace the Lutheran cause late in 1523. A year later, Erhard von Queiss, whose episcopal see was at Marienwerder, followed Polentz's example. Albrecht turned these events to his political advan tage. In April, 1525, Albrecht, with the consent of the nobles and towns of Prussia, transformed his elective grand-mastership into a dukedom of Prussia, held in fief from the king of Poland, and in July of the next year showed his complete rejection of the celibate vows of the order of which he had once been the head by marriage with a princess of Denmark. Luther and Melanchthon had advised him as early as 1523 to take both these steps. The two bishops also married, and put themselves under the authority of their new duke in characteristic Lutheran fashion. The churches were visited, public worship revised, and finally a university was founded as the crown ing feature of Albrecht's reformation, at Konigs burg, in 1544. In the neighboring kingdom of Poland, on the contrary, Lutheranism found a difficult entrance. In Danzig, it was suppressed by royal authority in 1526. Still Evangelical views spread, aided by Hussite sympathizers, and later by Bohemian ex iles. But with the accession of Sigismund August (king 1548-72), the Evangelical movement had a free path. While the middle classes were disposed to Lutheranism, Calvin's views found, after 1544, Prussia and Poland. 287 greater acceptance with the nobles ; and Calvinism was strengthened by its alliance, in 1555, with the Bohemian exiles whom persecution in their home land drove to Poland from 1548 onward — a union that was given effective organization by the efforts of the most famous of Polish reformers, Jan Laski (John k Lasco, 1499-1 560), who returned to his native country in 1556, after conspicuous service to the Evangelical cause in Friesland and England. The same year that Laski returned, each Polish land holder was given the right to choose his religion, and cities like Danzig, Thorn and Elbingen were granted similar privileges in this and speedily suc ceeding years. By a decree of 1573, Protestants and Catholics received equal rights. But extreme views also found a foothold in Poland. Giorgio Bian- drata (Blandrata, c. 15 15-1585 ?) and Fausto Sozzini (Faustus Socinus, 1 539-1604), Italian Unitarians, who found no rest in their native land or in Switzer land, were welcomed by many in Poland ; and the "Polish Brethren," as the Polish Unitarians were called, had considerable following among the nobil ity in the latter half of the sixteenth century. Here was issued at Rakow, in 1605, the most important confession that Socinianism produced in the Refor mation age — the Racovian Catechism. But the divisions of Polish Protestantism proved its ruin. From 1565 onward, the Jesuits did effective work for the papacy, and slowly won control of Polish ecclesiastical affairs, till, a century later, they were able to support their cause by force. Though part of the Holy Roman empire and con- 288 The Reformation. stituent German states in many political affairs, Bohe mia and Moravia were so separate from Germany in their dominant race that they deserve mention in this connection. The old Hussite movement, in its moderate and radical parties, the Calixtines and the United Brethren or Moravians, still survived at the outbreak of the Saxon revolt. With those of Calix- tine sympathies, Luther came at once into cordial connection ; and though, owing to his strenuousness of view regarding the nature of Christ's presence in the Supper, Luther found more difficulty in enter ing into fellowship with the more radical Bohemians — the Brethren — a large degree of cordial coopera tion was established by 1532, when Luther added a decidedly commendatory preface to their printed defence of their faith and worship. The influence of the Saxon reformers and the presence of Bohemians in the class-rooms of Wittenberg gave the Evangeli cal movement in Bohemia and Moravia a powerful impetus and largely Lutheranized the remnants of the work of Huss. Many refused to aid their king, Ferdinand, the brother of Charles V., in campaigns against the German Protestants in 1546-47, and, in consequence, the " Brethren " were largely exiled in 1548, and added strength to the Evangelical move ment in Poland. But Bohemian Protestantism grew, and under the Emperor Maximilian II. (1564-76) was practically unhindered. As the sixteenth cen- tury went on, the non-German Protestants of Bohe mia, and especially the Brethren, came to sympa thize with Calvinism; but a common danger, through vigorous attack by energetic Jesuits, and especially Bohemia and Hungary. 289 through the strongly Roman Rudolph II., who gained control of Bohemia in 1575, and was to hold the throne of the Holy Roman empire from 1576 to 1612, led to union for defence and the preparation of a common Protestant Bohemian Confession in I575- By the opening of the seventeenth century, nine-tenths of the inhabitants of Bohemia were op ponents of Rome; and, in 1609, Rudolph II. was compelled to grant full toleration to all adherents to the Bohemian Confession. But within a generation, this flourishing Bohemian Protestantism was wholly crushed amid the horrors of the Thirty Years' War. Protestantism penetrated yet further to the south east of its German source. Hungarian students promptly carried Lutheran views from Wittenberg to their home-land, where earlier teachings by Waldensians and Hussites had in some slight degree prepared the way. And yet further to the south eastward the German colonists of Transylvania felt strong sympathy with the religious upheaval of the Fatherland. In spite of severe repressive statutes issued in 1523 and 1525, Protestantism gained had considerable following when the great Turkish vic tory of Mohdcs, on August 29, 1526, divided the land and paralyzed in large measure the power of its Catholic rulers by the subsequent contests between John Zapolya and Charles V.'s younger brother, Ferdinand, for its mastery. Protestantism now rapidly grew, spread in Transylvania from 1533 onward by the zealous Johann Honter (1498-1549), and in Hungary by Matthias Bir6 Devay (c. 1500 to c. 1545), a student at Wittenberg in early manhood, 290 The Reformation. who fulfilled a stormy and persecuted ministry of much power. Devay came ultimately to support the Swiss rather than the Lutheran type of re form ; and the Hungarian Protestants, as a whole, sympathized with Calvin, while their German and Slavonic fellow-countrymen in Hungary proper and in Transylvania were as predominantly Lutherans. The quarrels between the two parties lamed the Evangelical cause. And, as in Poland, so especially in Transylvania, more radical reformers of the Unitarian school had their considerable following. As early as 1540, Unitarians were to be found in Transylvania ; but their chief growth began when, in 1563 F the Italian Unitarian, Giorgio Biandrata, came from Poland thither. John Zapolya's son, John Sigismund, prince of Transylvania from 1540 t° I57I) granted, in 1568, universal toleration and accorded equal rights to Catholics, Lutherans, Cal vinists and Unitarians. These privileges were con firmed, and the " four religions" recognized, by a Transylvanian diet in 1571 ; and the Unitarian body has maintained a respectable existence in Transyl vania to the present day. Hungary resisted Unita- rianism. In that land Protestantism of the Lutheran and Calvinist types steadily grew during the latter half of the sixteenth century till it had the support of a majority of the inhabitants. By 1586, however, the Jesuits began an active attack with such success that, by 1634, the Catholics regained a majority in the Hungarian diet. But Protestantism has sur vived with considerable vigor to the present time and numbers about one-fifth of the population of the land as its adherents. Spain. 291 In Spain and Italy, also, the Lutheran revolt was not without a considerable number of sympathizers. Luther's writings circulated rapidly in limited cir cles in both peninsulas. Many Spaniards of posi tion were brought to a knowledge of Lutheran ism by their service to Charles V., ruler at once of Spain and of Germany. But in neither land did the Lutheran revolt become in any sense a popu lar movement. Sympathy with its principles was somewhat widely diffused, but chiefly among the educated classes, and often without open breach with the Roman Church. It is often hard to classify those with whom the new views found some acceptance as Protestants or as Catholics, for the lines were not at first drawn with the rigidity that they afterward attained. Among the Spaniards, the twin brothers, Alfonso and Juan de Valdes (c. 1500-1532?, c. 1500-1541 ?), of humanistic training, were disposed to show con siderable favor to Lutheran principles. Alfonso was present in the train of Charles V. at Worms in 1521, and he defended the capture of Rome in 1527 by a free-spoken criticism of papal abuses. At Augsburg, in 1530, he translated the Confession for the emperor and served as a mediator in the ensuing discussions. Juan was yet more positive in his openness to the new views. His dialogue between Mercury and Charon, printed in 1529, vigorously arraigned the Roman curia and the state of the Church. In 1533, he found a home in Naples, where he remained till his death, and where his influence was great in spreading views largely akin to those 292 The Reformation. of Luther ; though neither brother ever formally broke with the Roman Church. Evangelical opin- ions were introduced into Seville by Rodrigo de Valero, and won the support of the chief preacher at the cathedral of that city, Juan Gil, and of an imperial chaplain, Ponce de la Fuente. In Vallado- lid, next to Seville the chief centre of sympathy with Evangelical views, Gil advocated the new opinions in 1555, and similar sentiments were enter tained by Domingo de Rojas and Agostino Cazalla, both leaders among the Valladolid clergy. Their work was aided by the Spanish version of the New Testament published at Antwerp, in 1543, by Fran cisco Enzinas, and at Venice or Geneva, in 1556, by Juan Perez. The movement was at its height between 1550 and 1560, and it has been estimated that it numbered as many as two thousand adher ents. But Protestantism, even of this non-aggres sive type, was an exotic on Spanish soil. Its first martyr was Francisco San Romano, who was burned at Valladolid in 1544 ; but it was between 1557 and 1560 that the Inquisition awoke to the full extent of the defection. Auto-da-fe's at Valladolid in 1559, and at Seville in the same year and in 1560, swept away the Evangelical movement in those cities ; and by 1570 it had practically ceased to exist in Spain. In no land was religion at a lower ebb when the Evangelical movement began than in Italy. The heathenizing influences of the extreme type which Italian humanism assumed and the worldly policy of a papacy anxious for political aggrandizement Italy. 293 had largely deadened the upper classes to religious feeling, while the lower orders, to whom the Renas cence had never penetrated, were inaccessible to such thoughts as the German peasantry readily wel comed. Yet certain cultivated circles in the Italy of the third decade of the sixteenth century were not a little stirred ; and though Italian reformers were far more Roman than Protestant, some characteris tic ideas which found their full expression in Luther for many years had welcome from some who never broke or desired to break with the Roman Church. As far as Evangelical thought penetrated Italy, it was the doctrine of justification by faith that there found acceptance rather than Luther's criticisms of the Roman conception of the Church. The Roman Church could hardly present the same aspect to an Italian that it did to a German. To the inhabitant of the Italian peninsula, it was a national institution in which he must feel a certain pride, even if the necessity of its reform was recognized ; to the Ger man it was foreign at best. In Italy the streams of reformatory impulse from Germany and Spain met and partially mingled, though that from Spain was far the stronger, and there was considerable reformatory zeal which may properly be called local in its origin. It would be wholly wrong to describe the circle which was formed at Rome by some sixty earnest-minded ecclesiastics in the closing months of the pontificate of Leo X. — the Oratory of Divine Love — as a Protestant movement. It belonged far more to the beginnings of the Catholic counter-Reformation; its aim was not 294 The Reformation. to favor heresy, but rather to repress it by fostering a purer religious life and a more worthy public wor ship. But this Oratory united in the bond of a com mon zeal for the betterment of Italian religious con ditions men destined to take opposite courses in the struggle that was to follow. The association included that fiery Neapolitan sympathizer with Ximenes, who was to be conspicuous in introducing the Span ish type of Reformation into Italy, Giovanni Pietro Caraffa (1476-15 59), later to be Pope Paul IV. and the arch-enemy of all Italian Protestantism. It numbered of its members the gentle, meditative, mediaevally devout Gaetano di Thiene (1480-1547), who, with the aid of Caraffa, was to found the influ ential order of the Theatines in 1524, for the culti vation of preaching and of pastoral zeal. It also embraced such moderate churchmen as the brilliant Latinist Jacopo Sadoleto, to whose appeal to the Protestants of Geneva, Calvin was twenty years later to reply in a famous letter, or Pietro Carnesecchi, who was to be secretary to Clement VII., to foster Evangelical opinions in Padua and Florence, and to die under the Inquisition in 1567. Similar in spirit to the more Evangelically inclined members of this Oratory, though not himself of it, was Gasparo Contarini (1483-1542), a member of one of the proudest of Venetian families, the noblest figure among the Italian prelates of the Reformation age. A man whose early career was spent in secular politics, the ambassador of Venice to Charles V. at the Reichstag of Worms, and an influential agent in the reconciliation between emperor and pope after Italy. 295 the sack of Rome, Contarini passed through the sordid school of Italian politics in the age of Mac- chiavelli upright in personal life, respected in con duct and character, and profoundly religious in motive. Aristocrat that he was, Contarini had no sympathy with the democratic aspects of the German Reformation. His was rather the ideal of the great councils of a century before — that of a reform from above downward, a renovation in "head and mem bers ;" but he approved in large measure of the doc trine of justification by faith. Made a cardinal, in 1535, by Paul III., who appreciated the advantage of retaining for the papacy so powerful a person ality, Contarini represented the pope, as has already been narrated, in the efforts put forth by Charles V. to bring about an agreement between Protestants and Catholics at the Reichstag of Regensburg in 1541. Much he was willing to concede to the Prot estants, but not those things which are vital to the Roman system ; and though he died, in 1542, under the frown of the stricter Roman party and his sym pathizers were speedily persecuted by the victorious Spanish type of the counter-Reformation, Contarini belonged in the ranks of reformatory Romans rather than in those of the Evangelicals. In many respects one with Contarini in willing ness to accept some of the principles of the Saxon reformers and in unwillingness to reject the papacy, was an English exile in Italy, Reginald Pole (1500- 58), later to be Queen Mary's archbishop of Can terbury and the enemy of English Protestantism, but a man suspected of heresy in Italy, and a reputed 296 The Reformation. believer in justification by faith alone. Of similar spirit, also, were Giovanni de Morone (1509-80), bishop of Modena and then of Novara, and Federigo Fregoso (d. 1541), archbishop of Salerno — both, like Contarini and Pole, ultimately cardinals. When certain doctrines characteristic of the Ger man Reformation had the countenance of men of such eminence, it is no wonder that sympathy with some aspects of the Protestant movement was widely felt among the cultivated classes of Italy for a time. At Ferrara, where the French princess Renee (15 1 1— 75), the wife of Duke Ercole d'Este, held her court, reformers of all shades found toleration and friend ship during the fourth decade of the sixteenth century. In Venice, where political independence favored freedom of expression and of printing, Luther's books were early circulated. There Anto nio Bruccioli (?— 1 556 ?) published, in 1530, his Italian translation of the New Testament, and of the whole Bible two years later — a version that was, indeed, far from being the first presentation of the Scriptures in Italian dress, for the Bible had been issued in repeated editions in the fifteenth century, but the first that represented the new freedom of scholarship that access to Greek and Hebrew facilitated. Mo dena, Bologna, Lucca, Padua, Verona and Florence had their sympathizers. But the most influential circle was at Naples, where the brilliant young sec retary to the Spanish viceroy, Juan de Valdes, whose career has already been noted in connection with the spread of the new doctrines in Spain, won many adherents for Evangelical views during the seven or Italy. 297 eight years that elapsed between his settlement in the city in 1533 and his death. These Neapolitan innovators had no plan of breaking with the Roman Church, but they welcomed many of the ideas of the Protestant Reformation. The lines had not yet been sharply drawn. They felt its religious power, rather than sympathized with its doctrinal or ecclesiastical criticisms. And from this Neapolitan awakening came the most famous volume that Italian semi- Protestantism produced — The Benefit of Christ ' s Death — written very probably by an Augustinian monk, Benedetto da Mantova, though often ascribed to the eminent humanist, reformer and martyr, Aonio Paleario (1500-70), of Siena, Lucca and Milan, or even to Valdes himself. During the fourth decade of the sixteenth cen tury, it seemed as if this half-Protestant, half-Roman movement might bear permanent fruitage in Italy. But the strict Roman party under the leadership of Caraffa gained the upper hand when Contarini's efforts to reconcile Protestants and Catholics proved vain at Regensburg in 1541 ; and, on July 21, 1542, the Inquisition was reorganized on the Spanish model at Rome. The Evangelical structure fell like a house of cards before it. The innovators had no effective popular or princely support. Many were imprisoned or burned. Many more went back to a full outward Roman obedience. Some fled the land. In a very few years all sympathizers with Evangelical views were rooted out, and the Protestant revolt, as far as Italy was moved by it, was as if it had not been, 298 The Reformation. These repressive measures, though they showed how slight a hold Protestant conceptions had gained on Italy, brought to the light the full Protestant ism of several members of the reformatory Italian circles. Such a man was Bernardino Ochino (1487- 1564), a native of Siena and a Capuchin monk, who was twice chosen vicar-general of his order and enjoyed wide repute as a preacher of surpassing power. Drawn to Evangelical views largely through the influence of Valdes, he was denounced as a heretic in 1542, and fled to Zurich and Geneva. In Geneva, Strassburg and Augsburg, he labored among his fugitive fellow-countrymen. Cranmer invited him to England in 1 547, and from that year till 1554 he found active employment for his pen and voice in London. Mary's accession drove him back to Zurich, where he fell under the influence of more radical views, especially those of his fellow- townsman, Lelio Sozzini (Socinus), and advanced extreme opinions which brought him much opposi tion. A dialogue that seemed to many disposed to favor polygamy led to his expulsion from Zurich in 1563, and he died, a homeless wanderer, in Moravia, in December, 1564. Such a man, also, was Pietro Martire Vermigli (Peter Martyr, 1500-62), a well-born Florentine, who had early entered the order of the canons of St. Augustine, and rose to be prior of a monastery near Naples. Won for Evangelical views by Valdes and Ochino, he became prior of San Frediano at Lucca, where he advocated opinions akin to those of the Saxon Reformation, The newly established Italy. 299 Inquisition compelled his flight in 1542, and he found refuge in Strassburg, where he became pro fessor of Hebrew. Cranmer called him to England with Ochino in 1 547, and he taught at Oxford till Mary's restoration of Catholicism sent him once more to Strassburg. In 1 5 5 5, he removed to Zurich, where he closed his much-vexed and useful life. Of similar desert was Galeazzo Caraccioli (15 17— 86), Marquis of Vico, and a nephew of Caraffa himself. Led to Evangelical beliefs by Valdes and Pietro Martire, he remained in the circle at Naples as long as he dared, and fled at last, in 1 55 1, to Geneva. There he resisted all entreaties of his wife and family to abandon his faith and return to Italy, and remained till his death a main pillar of the little Genevan communion of Italian Protestant refugees. A man of more churchly prominence than Caraccioli who adopted Evangelical opinions was Pietro Paolo Vergerio (1498-1565), bishop of Capodistria, papal secretary and nuncio. Pursued for several years by the Inquisition, he escaped, in 1549, to Switzerland, and from 1553 to his death enjoyed an honorable repute as a citizen of Tubingen and a counsellor of the duke of Wiirtemberg. In Jeronimo Zanchi (1516-90), like Pietro Martire a member of the order of St. Augustine, Protestantism won one of its ablest Italian converts. A wanderer for his faith in England, Switzerland and Germany, he taught at Strassburg, Heidelberg and Neustadt, and became famous as one of the ablest of Calvinistic theologians of the latter half of the sixteenth cen tury. 300 Ihe Reformation. But, as has already been intimated in speaking of Ochino, an extreme radical tendency readily de veloped among the Italian opponents of Rome and appeared most distinctly in the form of anti-Trini- tarianism. For a time, before the full sweep of this criticism was manifest to others, or perhaps to them selves, a number of these radical thinkers found refuge in Geneva and shared in the life of the Italian congregation in that city during the sixth decade of the sixteenth century. Among them were Mat- teo Gribaldi ^-1564), once a professor of law at Padua, whom the Genevan government expelled for his opinions on the Trinity in 1559, and Giovanni Valentino Gentile (c. 1520-66) of Cosenza, in Cala bria, who came a fugitive to Geneva about 1557, and, falling under condemnation by reason of his views, was punished by the Genevan authorities, fled their jurisdiction, and lived a wandering life in France and Poland. Expelled from that last refuge, Gentile returned to Switzerland, and was beheaded at Berne, in 1566, after a trial in some ways re sembling that of Servetus. Of similar anti-Trini tarian convictions was Giorgio Biandrata, of whose work in Poland and Transylvania mention has already been made. Sprung from a family of dis tinction in Saluzzo, Biandrata attained to eminence in medicine, and after serving professionally the families of the rulers of Poland and Transylvania, he returned to Italy and settled in Pavia, whence he fled from the Inquisition to Geneva in 1557. A radical inquirer, he discussed much with Calvin the objections which he advanced against the his- A nti- Trinitarians. 301 toric doctrine of the Trinity. With a fellow- believer, Gianpaolo Alziati, he refused to sign the Trinitarian Confession which Calvin laid before the Italian congregation of Geneva in May, 1558, and left the city, going the same year to the already familiar Poland, and thence, in 1563, to Transylva nia, where he gained a decidedly favorable hearing for his opinions and helped to found the Unitarian communion which there obtained legal recognition. Most famous of any of the Italian thinkers of this radically critical school were two natives of Siena, Lelio Sozzini (Socinus, 1525-62), and his far better known nephew, Fausto (1 539-1604). The elder left the Roman Church in 1546, and de veloped his radical theories only gradually. He was a natural doubter ; and he sought the truth in a wandering life of study in Switzerland, France, England, Germany and Poland. He visited Calvin at Geneva, and finally settled at Zurich, where he was held in decided esteem. Indeed, had it not been for his nephew's far greater work and his nephew's acknowledged indebtedness to his un published speculations, Lelio Sozzini would have had little fame and would scarcely have been reckoned the Unitarian that he was. Fausto Soz zini, like several others of his family, was devoted to the study of law when the suspicions of the Inqui sition, which had been aroused against Lelio's rela tives by that exile's repute as a heretic, induced him to flee his native city. On the death of Lelio, Fausto became his literary executor ; and the study of the uncle's papers made the nephew a critic of 3o2 The Reformation. ¦'¦— '¦¦ ¦ ¦ •¦"¦ ¦¦ ¦ ¦ — — ¦ — — — — — many doctrines held by Catholics and Protestants alike, especially that of the Trinity. His opposition was not publicly pronounced at first, however; and, from 1562 to 1574, he held an honorable po sition in the service of the princely Medician house at Florence. Four years of quiet theological in vestigation at Basel laid the foundation studies for treatises of ability in criticism of the Anselmic theory of the Atonement and of the ascription of physical death to the consequences of the Adamic transgression. The year 1578 saw Fausto in Tran sylvania and 1579 in Poland, where he spent the remainder of his life — a quarter of a century — in vigorous efforts to spread and maintain his beliefs. A man of great honesty of purpose and sincerity of conviction, Fausto Sozzini was of dry, hard and unimaginative mould, a thorough rationalist in spirit, yet an extreme supernaturalist in his faith. In him the critical tendency of the later scholasticism of Duns Scotus and Occam, developed by the skeptical spirit of the Renascence, would bring all truth to the bar of " reason and common sense. ' ' The New Tes tament, he held, is of supernatural origin ; but it is so proved, not, as with Calvin, by the inward witness of the Holy Spirit to the believing reader, but by external testimony and by miracles, especially that crowning miracle, the Resurrection. The New Tes tament, thus attested to reason as divinely in spired and authoritative, in turn attests the truth of the Old ; and the purpose of the Scriptures is to show man the way set before him to eternal life. That way is the way of Christianity — the way of Anti-Trinitarians. 303 obedience to divine law. Man could not discover that way for himself. He needed God's revelation. He is mortal by nature and not in consequence of sin. Christ was a man, but a man who enjoyed in a unique degree the favor of God, and received un measured enduement with wisdom and power — a man who lived a life of unique obedience, to whom God therefore gave resurrection and exaltation to a delegated divinity, so that Christ in His glory is now properly an object of worship and the giver of eternal life to His followers. More wide-reaching in its influence upon theology than the speculations just outlined was Fausto Sozzi- ni's attack on the Anselmic theory of the Atonement which the divines of the Reformation age, Catholic and Protestant, alike accepted. Satisfaction, he held, as Duns Scotus had maintained long before, is no demand of the divine nature, such as Anselm had conceived it to be. Forgiveness and satisfac tion seemed to Fausto Sozzini contradictory con ceptions. Punishment due an offender cannot justly be borne by any other being. Christ's life and death are no compensation to God for human sin. Christ's obedience was no more than was due for Himself, nor could His death have a higher value than that of the noblest of human beings. It reveals God's love. It was necessary in order that the great gift of resurrection should be His. It shows the Christian how he, too, should be ready for sacrifice. This keen, rationalistic criticism of one of the main doctrines of the Church was not without large result. In the extreme Socinian 304 1 ne Reformation. form, it won few followers, but it led to much modification of the satisfaction theory, of which modification the governmental view of Atonement, presented, in 161 7, by the eminent Dutch states man and Arminian theologian, Hugo Grotius(i583- 1645), was the most conspicuous example. In the Socinian movement and its influences, direct and indirect, on later theology, the Protes tantism of Italy had its most lasting result. But in the home-land, though a few might survive a brief time in hiding, the Protestants had ceased to be a force of any consequence by the close of the pontifi cate of Pius V. in 1572. In turning to the Netherlands, a land is once more reached where the population was largely Teutonic and where the revolt from Rome ultimately took strong hold on a great section of the population. In Spain and Italy, sympathy with any phase of Prot estantism was felt by but few. In France, though the Huguenots were to become a power in the state, their numbers were always far less than those of the Catholics. But in the northern portion of the Netherlands, Protestantism was to win one of its most signal triumphs. No territories in Europe, save the states of northern Italy, were so prosper ous at the beginning of the sixteenth century as the seventeen provinces that made up the Netherlands and that came to Charles V. as part of his Burgun- dian inheritance on the death of his father in 1506. Rich in soil, productive in manufacture, active in commerce, the land was one of prosperous cities, well-to-do people, and successful industry beyond The Netherlands. 305 any other in northern Europe. Its southern por tion was the home of nobles of large estates and in fluence, while its northern territories were more democratic ; but both in the north and the south the manufacturing and trading cities were strong and self-reliant. Yet no district of Europe, save possibly Italy, was more marked by local distinctions or by that political attitude which is known in later American history as that of " states rights." Local independence was very evident. Neither Church nor State was strongly centralized. Religiously, the land had been influenced, in the fifteenth cen tury, by a mystic school, of which Thomas a Kem- pis (1380-1471) is the best-known representative. The " Brothers of the Common Life," though in no way breaking with the Roman Church, yet promoted an humble,heartfelt piety as of more value than cere monies. The well-to-do circles in the land had found a welcome for humanism at the dawn of the sixteenth century ; and the prince of trans-Alpine humanists, Erasmus, was a Netherlander by birth. But the people of the Netherlands as a whole were neither mystics nor humanists, but practical, wide awake commercial and manufacturing folk, religious without asceticism or fanaticism, averse to persecu tion, and strongly tenacious of their rights and liberties. Though promptly condemned by the theologians of the Netherland University of Louvain in 1520, and by Charles V., the ruler of the land, in 1521, Luther's writings were circulated with immediate effect in the I-qw Countries. They won devoted 306 The Reformation. followers, especially among his fellow Augustinian monks, two of whom, Hendrik Voes and Jan Erch, on July i, 1523, were burned for their faith at Brussels — the first martyrs of the Lutheran revolt. Charles V. was much better able to translate his hostility toward Protestantism into deed in the Netherlands than in Germany, and a long series of edicts attested at once the spread of anti-Roman opinions and the vigor of the emperor against them. An inquisitorial council was established by Pope Clement VII. in 1524; and in 1550, Charles en deavored to introduce the Spanish type of that spiritual tribunal. Though the number of execu tions often alleged to have taken place under his rule is probably much exaggerated, there can be no question that more opponents of Rome were put to death during the reign of Charles V. in the Nether lands than in any other portion of his extensive dominions. Yet, though Charles tried to centralize the administration of the seventeen provinces and to oppose Protestantism everywhere, and though he was much more able to enforce his will in the Netherlands than in Germany, local independence and aversion to persecution, as well as the more tolerant spirit of the regents, Margaret, the emperor's aunt, and Maria, the emperor's sister, who repre sented the absent sovereign, rendered this repres sive policy unequal in its actual severity and com paratively inefficient. Though most of the nobles were unaffected, the opinions of the conservative German and Swiss reformers won much hold on the people ; and among the wage-earning classes the The Netherlands. 307 more radical conceptions of the Anabaptists found large following and aroused the government to fiercer attempts at repression. In the Netherlands as a whole, as the reign of Charles V. drew to a close, the views of Calvin rather than those of Lu ther became the dominant Protestant type. Trans planted from France and Geneva to the Walloon provinces of the south, Calvinism soon gained even more influence in the Dutch provinces of the north. Lutheranism largely disappeared before it ; and, in 1 561, a Walloon disciple of the Genevan re-. former, Guy de Bray, as has already been said, pre pared a strongly Calvinistic statement of belief, the Belgic Confession, which, with some later modifica tions, continues one of the symbolic bases of the Reformed Church of Holland, and of its daughter in America, to this day. Yet, though Protestantism thus grew in adherents and influence in the Nether lands, it long grew slowly^ The pressure of perse cution upon it was great. When, in 1562, the Belgic Confession was laid before the Spanish king, its adherents were reckoned only one hundred thou sand. But already the policy of that sovereign, Philip II., was forcing the Netherlands toward that semi-religious, semi-political revolt, that constitutes the most heroic chapter of the latter half of the six teenth century. This revolt instantly strengthened the Protestant movement ; and its effect was to render the seven northern provinces which success fully maintained their independence permanently Protestant, while their ten southern neighbors re mained in the spiritual possession of the papacy. 308 The Reformation. The story of the English revolt from Rome has been told in another volume of this series, and has, therefore, no extended place in the present nar rative. It may be proper, however, for the sake of greater completeness of survey, to recall the chief milestones in one of the most important chapters of the history of the Reformation age. As has already been noted, the Scriptures were somewhat widely read in England during the fifteenth century, and the Wiclifian movement, though seemingly crushed, continued silently to work to a moderate extent among the common people of eastern England. Where that influence reached, it made easy the thought of separation from Rome. As has been pointed out, also, humanism did its preparatory work in England, as elsewhere in Latin Christendom, and the names of Colet, More and Erasmus are in separably connected with the broadening of English scholarship at the dawn of the sixteenth century. Wolsey, and even Henry VIII. (king 1509-47), his master, would have been glad to introduce into England a reform on the Spanish model of Ximenes, though without the Inquisition ; and Wolsey did something in the spirit of Erasmian humanism for the betterment of religious institutions and the ad vance of education. Henry VIII. bitterly opposed Luther, and thereby won from the pope the title " Defender of the Faith." But the Roman curia had no hold on the affections of the English people, little as any considerable numbers of them were inclined to Protestantism of doctrine, till after the breach with Rome had become an accomplished- England. 309 fact. England for Englishmen, in religion as well as in politics, was the feeling of the great mass of the people in the early years of Henry VIII.'s reign. It was on this national spirit that Henry relied when his own failure to procure from Clement VII. the annulment of his marriage to Catherine of Aragon led him to break with Rome. The steps of that revolt followed in rapid succession. The clergy of the two English provinces of Canterbury and York, assembled in convocation, were com pelled to declare Henry the supreme head of the Church of England in 1 531. The next year Parlia ment forbade payments of annates to Rome. The year 1533 saw the much-desired conjugal separa tion granted Henry by Henry's just appointed arch bishop of Canterbury, Thomas Cranmer. In 1534, Clement VII. ordered Henry to restore Catherine and threatened him with excommunication. The pope's authority was now abolished by royal edict in June, 1534 ; and, in November of the same year, Parliament declared the king and his successors " the only supreme head in earth of the Church of Eng land," and England was wholly separated from the Roman see. The year 1536 saw the dissolution of the smaller monasteries, and the confiscation of the larger religious houses followed in 1539. The Bible was issued in English and placed in English parish churches by royal authority. Under the stress of this contest, Henry countenanced some approaches toward the Evangelical positions of the continental reformers; but, in 1539, the Law of Six Articles affirmed the more characteristic Roman beliefs — 310 The Reformation. save that of the authority of the pope — and the king never was at heart a doctrinal Protestant. Under Henry, three parties existed in England— a small, but growing Evangelical party, in full sym pathy with the continental reformers of the Lu theran school ; a small Roman party that desired the continuance of papal authority ; and the major ity of the nation, of which the king was fairly rep resentative, that wished little doctrinal change, but was ready to do away with obedience to the papacy, and abolish those features of English clerical life which, like monasticism, had come widely to be re garded as abuses. With the accession of Edward VI. (king 1547-53) the still comparatively small party in sympathy with continental Protestantism came into power, and there followed the publication of a Book of Common Prayer in 1549, by which all the ordinary parish service was transferred from the Latin to the Eng lish tongue, and its characteristic Roman features largely abolished. Under the growing influence of foreign Protestants in England, the Book was re vised in 1552 ; and, in 1553, Forty-two Articles of Religion, of decidedly Protestant tone, were pro claimed. But the barefaced spoliation of the Eng lish Church by those who guided the counsels of Edward VI. and those who followed their example brought odium upon a cause that, though dear to many, was used by others as a cloak to their own aggrandizement. Under Mary (queen 1553-58) the pendulum swung to the opposite side, and the small Roman party came into power through reaction from England. 311 the excesses of the previous reign. Though for a short time Mary pursued a tolerant policy, the ser vices were speedily brought back to the Latin cere monial of the last year of Henry VIII. The vigorous restoration of Roman Catholicism soon followed. In November, 1554, England was absolved and once more accepted the Roman obedience, though church- lands confiscated in previous reigns remained in the possession of their holders. Mary's reaction might have been endurable by the nation had she not now gone on to persecution. In January, 1555, the work began. Bishop Hooper of Gloucester, John Rogers, prebendary of St. Paul's, London, Hugh Latimer, once bishop of Worcester, Bishop Ridley of Lon don, Archbishop Cranmer, and about two hundred and eighty more were burned — the most frequent charge on which their execution was justified being their denial of the doctrine of transubstantiation. These executions, though few compared with those of the Netherlands or of Spain, aroused Protestant sympathies among the people of England as nothing previous had done. The firmness generally evinced by the sufferers, whom the people widely viewed as innocent victims of a foreign authority, greatly com mended the Protestant cause. Even before the accession of Mary, the influence of Calvin had begun to supplant that of Luther among English Prot estants ; and the welcome that fugitives from the Marian persecutions received on the Continent from Calvinists generally, and most of all from Calvin himself — a welcome in marked contrast to their re jection by the Lutheran cities of north Germany 312 The Reformation. which distrusted their views on the nature of Christ's presence in the Supper — gave to those who fled from England a warmer zeal than ever for the doc trine and system of Geneva. The accession of Elizabeth (queen 1558-1603) found a strong minority of the English people Protestant, and the returning exiles brought home an intenser Calvinistic Protestantism by reason of their continental sojourn. Between all the distract ing currents of English religious life the great queen steered her difficult course. Without religious parti sanship, almost without religious feeling, she cared little for the questions that fiercely divided Europe. She was too much her father's daughter to tolerate papal authority in the land. She saw the political ad vantages of Protestantism ; but she opposed the re formatory zeal of the Puritans quite as vigorously as the reactionary attempts of the Roman Catholics. Though the Protestantism of the nation became more intense and extensive as her reign went on, and the Puritan party which was its advance-guard therefore steadily grew, Elizabeth never departed from her carefully weighed policy of comprehension, and she had in it, especially in the earlier part of her reign, the support of a decided majority of the Epglish people. Yet, though the English Church, as it came from the Elizabethan Reformation, was far more a compromise Church than any on the Conti nent, its leaders and the continental divines alike throughout the great queen's reign regarded it as one of the foremost members of the Protestant fam ily ; and its fellowship with the continental reform- England and Scotland. 313 ers of the Calvinistic school and with the churches which they founded was hearty and ample. Eng land under Elizabeth, in spite of contemporary Puritan criticism • of the Elizabethan Reformation as inadequate, and of later High Anglican claim, was politically and religiously a Protestant land. England's northern neighbor, Scotland, passed through very different experiences from those that have just been narrated in its reformation-struggle. Politically, the land for two centuries before the Reformation was torn by quarrels between the nobles and the crown, and harassed by the constant dread of conquest by English diplomacy or arms. This fear led Scotland to hold close with England's chief rival, France. During the great papal schism because England supported the Roman claimant, Scotland adhered to the French pretender at Avig non. Under James I. (king 1406-37) Scotland had a ruler of high abilities, but the crown was weakened by successive minorities, and the power of the land broken by the attacks of the English under Henry VIII. in 15 1 3 (Flodden Field) and 1542 (Solway Moss). Though unable to shake off English ag gression, these defeats made Scotland more than ever antagonistic to English influence. The effect of the contest which ended disastrously at Sol way Moss was ultimately the betrothal of James V.'s infant daughter and heir, Mary "Queen of Scots," to Francis, heir to the throne of France, and in the fifth and sixth decades of the sixteenth century Scotland was almost a French province and seemed likely so to remain till the Reformation tore 314 The Reformation. it from its foreign connection and put it on the path way of modern development. Commercially and industrially, the Scotland of the first half of the sixteenth century was a poor and backward land. Its development was delayed by feuds between Highlanders and Lowlanders, by border warfare, and by internal quarrels. The mon archy had attained no such authority as in Tudor England. To maintain its power involved constant struggle with a turbulent nobility. The external conditions of life were rude. Learning was at a com paratively low ebb. Yet a number of grammar schools, largely monastic in origin, gave a fair Latin training to those who sought them. But though universities destined to noble service had been founded at St. Andrews in 141 1, at Glasgow in 1450, and at Aberdeen in 1494, and though laws of James IV. (king 1488-15 13) ordered nobles and rich land owners to send their sons to these grammar schools and universities, humanism gained little hold on Scotland before the Reformation. Greek was not taught, it is said, till 1534, and Hebrew not till 1560. Many Scots visited foreign schools of re nown, but the scholarly, like the industrial, condi tion of the home-land was, as a whole, undeveloped. The Church in Scotland shared much of the rude ness and disorder of the national life. Though prel ates of eminent worth honored the Scotch Church, of whom James Kennedy, bishop of St. Andrews from 1441 to 1465, may be named as an example, the general religious tone of Scotland was low, judged even by pre-Reformation standards. But Scotland. 315 the relative wealth and political importance of the clergy was great. Half the lands of the kingdom were in their possession. More than a hundred and twenty religious houses devoted some of the fairest portions of the land to the support of Scottish mo- nasticism, and the power of the high clergy so nearly rivalled that of the great lay nobles as to render the opposition between these clerical and lay owners of the soil often intense, and to cause that opposition to become one of the prime factors in the struggle by which Scotland was torn from the papal obedience. Scotland witnessed little religious dissent before the Lutheran movement had been felt on the Con tinent with power. James Resby, a Wiclifite, had been burned at Perth in 1408. Paul Crawar had suf fered a like fate as a Hussite at St. Andrews in 1433. Some Wiclifite doctrine may have found permanent lodgment in Scotland. But these anti-Roman influ ences were unimportant. The first significant inva sion of dissent came with the teaching of Patrick Hamilton, himself the first martyr for the Protestant faith on Scottish soil. Hamilton (c. 1504-28) was a son of one of the most eminent Scottish noble families, who had been appointed abbot of Feme when but thirteen years of age, and became a student at the University of Paris. There he passed from a zealous Erasmian humanism to adhesion to the new views which Luther was proclaiming ; and, in 1523, he returned to Scotland already out of sympathy with the Roman Church. St. Andrews was next the scene of his study and activity, till the opposition of Archbishop James Beaton (P-I539) induced Ham- 316 The Reformation. ilton to go to Germany, where he made the acquaint ance of Luther and Melanchthon at Wittenberg, and was especially impressed by Frangois Lambert at the newly instituted Hessian University of Mar burg. But his stay on the Continent was brief. De sire to preach the new truths in Scotland was strong upon him. He returned to his native land in 1527, labored vigorously and persuasively for a brief time, but was soon seized, and died, amid sufferings of unusual severity, at the stake, in St. Andrews, on February 29, 1528. The Lutheran movement on the Continent was already more than ten years old when Hamilton became its first Scottish martyr, and through his example or by direct influence from Germany, it soon found other adherents and the stake other vic tims during the archiepiscopate of James Beaton. Under the ecclesiastical rule of James Beaton's nephew and successor, Cardinal David Beaton, from 1539 to 1546, the repression of Protestantism was even more severe ; and the contest was much em bittered by political considerations — the Protestants, who had become considerably numerous by 1540, now receiving support from and aiding the interests of England, which had torn loose from Rome under Henry VIII., and even some assistance, for a time, from James Hamilton, earl of Arran, who became regent on the death of James V. in 1542. Cardinal Beaton and his clerical friends, on the other hand, eagerly furthered the French cause in the struggle of the two nations for influence in Scotland, and soon won Arran for their side. In Beaton, the pro- Scotland. 3 1 7 posed betrothal of Mary, the infant heiress of Scot land, and Edward, soon to be king of England, had its chief opponent. A conspicuous victim of this partly religious, partly political contest was George Wjshart (i 5 1 3 ?-i 546). A fugitive for his Protestant ism, he lived in exile in England and on the Conti nent from 1538 to 1544 or 1545, when he returned to Scotland, and preached with much success, sup porting at the same time the English interest. Car dinal Beaton had him seized and burned at St. Andrews. But Wishart's friends took their ven geance on his persecutor. On May 29, 1546, about twelve weeks after Wishart's death, the cardinal was murdered. The conspirators who had wrought this bloody reprisal now defended themselves against the regent, the earl of Arran, with the countenance of the English, in the castle of St. Andrews, where a considerable number of their sympathizers joined them, after hostilities had been temporarily sus pended, among whom was the future leader of the Scottish Reformation, John Knox. No figure stands out more sharply in Reformation story than that of the powerful man just named. Far from possessing the originality and genius of Luther or of Calvin as a thinker, he was like Luther in his capacity to sway men, in his love for the ver nacular of his native land, and in his passion. He had something of Calvin's gifts of organization, and he was also, to the utmost fibre of his being, typi cal of the land of his birth. Intense, religious, argu mentative, democratic, fearless, intolerant, forceful, he led Scotland as no other man in its history has 3 1 8 The Reformation. done. John Knox was born in the Giffordgate dis trict of the town of Haddington, a few miles east of Edinburgh, in the year 1505. His father, William Knox, was in humble circumstances, but of sufficient means and ambition to start his son on the road to an education. The boy passed through the school at Haddington, and, in 1522, entered the University of Glasgow just as Luther was publishing his forma tive translation of the New Testament. Here at Glasgow, John Major (1469-15 50) was at the height of his fame. A scholastic theologian, Major had imbibed the sentiments of the leaders of the great fifteenth century councils, and taught the superiority of these gatherings of the universal Church over popes. He criticised the Roman curia, he desired to reduce the number of monks, he held that civil authority was derived from the people, who could depose and even execute unjust rulers. Major was far removed from being a Protestant, but his views undoubtedly had their influence in arousing Knox's critical spirit ; and Knox's aversion to the current scholastic dialetics and theology was strengthened by the study of the fathers, particularly of Augus tine. That Knox graduated from the university is not assured from its lists, and his life from 1523 to 1542 is very obscure. He certainly studied law and prac tised the lawyer's profession in and about Hadding ton between 1 540 and 1 543. He plainly was in minor orders by the latter date, and was very probably ordained a priest ; but he turned aside, alike from the law and from the Roman clerical career, about John Knox. 319 1543, probably under the impulse of Evangelical convictions, and by 1544 was a tutor, having under his care several young sons of Lothian families of wealth and position. Here he came in contact with George Wishart, whose ministry and death have been already noted, and not only formed the warm est of personal friendships for that unfortunate Protestant, but was greatly strengthened by Wishart in his Evangelical convictions. Cardinal Beaton's murder by John and Norman Leslie, partly in re venge for Wishart's martyrdom, seemed to Knox a just judgment of God ; and so strong had his Prot estant sympathies become, that by Easter, 1547, he joined himself with his pupils to those defenders of St. Andrews Castle who included the conspirators against Beaton and who maintained their independ ence in St. Andrews, with English sympathy, after that bloody deed. These men, favorable politically to the predominance of English influence in Scottish affairs, and inclined religiously to radical Protestant ism, now chose Knox their minister — an office which he accepted and entered with a fiery sermon denun ciatory of the papacy and all its works. St. Andrews was greatly stirred by his vigorous oratory ; the Protestant party then grew apace, and Knox now introduced the first public celebration of the Supper according to Protestant usage in Scottish history. This Protestant and English-sympathizing move ment which thus held military possession of St. Andrews, though not without considerably numer ous sympathizers among the nobility, who had long been jealous of the powers and possessions of 320 The Reformation. the clergy, speedily had to endure direct attack from France, whose chief partisan had been cut down in the death of Beaton. A French force besieged St. Andrews by sea and land in July, 1547. No help came from England, now under the nominal rule of Edward VI. and the actual control of the duke of Somerset, and the castle fell. Knox and his fellow-Protestants who there surrendered were carried to France. In flagrant breach of the terms of capitulation, Knox himself was confined in chains on one of the galleys ; and during the summer of 1548 lay a prisoner, nigh unto death, in his floating jail, off the coast of Scotland, within sight of the familiar towns and steeples. But his courage was equal to any trial, and, even in these straits, he confidently believed, and made others believe, that he should yet preach the Reformation in his native land. But at the time of Knox's imprisonment the prospects of the Evangelical cause in Scotland seemed slight. Though Somerset's tardy action had allowed St. Andrews to fall, he was anxious to effect the ultimate union of the two realms by the betrothal of the youthful Edward VI. of England to the infant Mary " Queen of Scots," to be fol lowed in due time by marriage. In ordei to further the plan, Somerset now invaded Scotland, and de feated the Scotch with great slaughter at Pinkie, on September 10, 1547. But the effect of this bloody victory was the opposite of that intended by Somer set. The Scotch were largely united in embittered hostility to England. Mary was sent to France and John Knox. 321 betrothed to the heir to the French throne. And because England was now Protestant, the anti- Protestant party in Scotland, which was at the same time that of French sympathy, had full control in the land. Knox, who was released from his French imprisonment in February, 1549, found it wise to preach under English protection at Berwick for the next two years, rather than to return to Scotland ; and he continued in England, marked as always by great boldness of speech, till compelled to fly to the Continent in 1554. During this English ministry, he was appointed a royal chaplain, and offered the bishopric of Rochester — a preferment which he re fused, because he did not regard the English Refor mation as complete. Yet if the state of Scotch politics promised little for the Evangelical cause in the year of Knox's captivity and Somerset's invasion, the situation speedily altered. Sympathy with the new views continued to spread among the nobles and the common people. The Protestant cause gained un willing countenance even from the French mother of the youthful Mary "Queen of Scots," Mary of Guise, the widow of James V. Anxious to secure control of the government and to dispossess the earl of Arran of his regency, she had to depend on the aid of those nobles whose Protestant sympathies, no less than their political opinions, inclined them to oppose Arran and his half-brother, Archbishop John Hamilton of St. Andrews. With their aid, she succeeded in obtaining the regency in April, 1554. Moreover, the accession of Mary Tudor to the throne 322 The Reformation. of England in 1553, involving the speedy restoration of papal obedience in that land, favored Scotch Prot estantism by reason of the disposition then charac teristic of the hard-pressed little country to follow a policy opposite to that which England pursued. The result was that, by the autumn of 1 5 5 5 , Scotch Protes tantism was so far able to hold up its head that Knox dared to return from his continental exile to his native land. After his departure from England, early in 15 54, that exile had been passed in intercourse with Calvin at Geneva, and in the charge of a con gregation of English refugees at Frankfort — a min istry that proved stormy by reason of Knox's opposition to some ceremonies enjoined by the English Prayer-Book. It was as a thoroughgoing Calvinist that he now returned to Scotland. Knox now found a wide welcome for the Evan gelical opinions. He preached at Edinburgh, and in a large number of country-seats of men of po sition, and came into relations with three youthful nobles who were to be leaders of the Protestant party — Lord Erskine, afterward earl of Mar, and Lord James Stuart, afterward earl of Murray, who were later to be regents of Scotland, and, also, Lord Lome, afterward earl of Argyll. He had the hearty good-will, also, of such men as John Erskine of Dun and the earl of Glencairn. Knox everywhere took a stand of most determined opposition to the old Church, denouncing the mass and denying that men of Protestant convictions could rightfully be present at its celebration. But though largely suc cessful, persecution threatened his work ; and Knox John Knox. 323 felt it his duty to accept a call to the pastorate of the church of English exiles in his beloved Geneva, whither he removed in the summer of 1556. Here, at Geneva, he remained, in intimate association with Calvin, till January, 1559. From thence he published earnest tracts in furtherance of the Scotch Reformation, of which the most famous, as well as the most annoying to Knox later, was his First Blast of the Trumpet Against the Monstrous RegimehT of Women, of 1558. Moved by the opposition of Mary Tudor in England, Catherine de' Medici in France, and of the regent, Mary of Guise, in Scot land, to the Evangelical cause, Knox argued that no woman could rightfully exercise sovereignty — a doc trine for which Henry VIII. 's domineering daughter, Elizabeth, never forgave him. Though Knox was absent from Scotland, the Protestant cause in that land was rapidly gathering strength. The Evangelical nobles urged his return. On December 3, I557> largely through Knox's in fluence and suggestion, the earl of Argyll, Lord Lome, the earl of Glencairn, John Erskine of Dun, and many other men of position and influence, signed a covenant at Edinburgh pledging them selves "to maintain, set forward, and establish the most blessed Word of God and his congregation "-<- from which these leaders of the now fully organized Protestant party obtained the nickname of the "Lords of the Congregation." This Protestant tendency among the nobles was much strengthened by their fear of the increasing influence of France, and the consequent loss of Scottish independence, 324 The Reformation. owing to the completion of the long betrothal of Mary "Queen of Scots" by her marriage to the heir of the French throne on April 24, 1558. The political situation was further complicated when, on the death of Mary Tudor, in November, 1558, Elizabeth succeeded to the English throne — a queen whom the Roman party held to be illegitimate as the daughter of Anne Boleyn, and to whom many of that party denied all right to rule. If Elizabeth was not justly queen of England, the throne un doubtedly belonged to Mary "Queen of Scots," who immediately asserted her claim, and that claim became all the more threatening when Mary's hus band ascended the French throne as Francis II. in July, 1559. But, though threatening, the very dan ger of the political situation gave strength to the Scotch Protestant party, for it assured the support of Elizabeth, and it knit together all those who trembled at the thought of a union of France, Eng land and Scotland under the joint sovereignty of a king and queen of strongly Roman tendencies. Matters were embittered by the burning of the aged priest, Walter Mylne, for his Evangelical opinions at St. Andrews, in April, 1558. The regent, Mary of Guise, after temporizing with the " Lords of the Congregation " regarding ecclesiastical reforms in 1558, showed her policy to be strenuously Roman in religion and French in politics. By the spring of 1559, Scotland was fairly in a state of civil war ; and, on May 2, Knox arrived at Edinburgh, to find him self, as he wrote in a contemporary letter, " even in the heart of the battle " — a battle in no small degree John Knox. 325 due to his work. From Edinburgh Knox went immediately to Perth, where other reformers were assembled. There he heard that the regent had declared him outlawed and was proceeding against the Protestant preachers. Knox replied with a fierce denunciation of the mass. The mob rose, tore the images from the church, and sacked the monasteries of the place. Knox thought such action too riotous ; but when the regent proposed to punish the offence, he declared that " she was fighting not against man, but God." The regent now hurried her French troops to the scene, and the "Lords of the Congregation" appealed to arms; but the forces were so nearly equal that no battle was fought. In June, Knox and his innovating friends were in St. Andrews itself, and there the re former preached in defiance of the archbishop and at no little peril to himself, but with such popular success that the magistrates and people stripped the churches and destroyed the monasteries of the an cient episcopal town. By the end of June, Knox and the "Lords of the Congregation" were in Edinburgh, where the townspeople chose him min ister, but before the close of July the forces of the regent compelled him to leave. Knox now journeyed about Scotland, winning numerous ad herents for the Protestant cause. The work of reformation was carried on with a violence greater probably than that manifested elsewhere in Europe. Monasteries were destroyed, churches sacked, and the nobles hastened to put themselves in possession of the church-lands, so that the Church of Scotland 326 The Reformation. speedily became as poor as it had previously been wealthy. Both sides now had armies, that of the regent being largely composed of French mercenaries. But, in October, 1559, the reformers felt strong enough to declare the regent, Mary of Guise, sus pended, and to lay siege to her forces in Leith. An English fleet, urgently sought of Elizabeth by Knox and his associates, came in January, 1560, to the aid of the Protestants, and an English army in March. In June following the regent closed her troubled career by death ; and, on July 6, a treaty was signed at Edinburgh by which the French and the English forces were alike to be withdrawn from the land ; the government, during the absence of Queen Mary, was entrusted to natives of Scotland, and a parliament called to settle the affairs of the king dom. It was a notable Protestant victory, and in no small degree the fruit of Knox's own indefati gable labors. The parliament sat from the 1st to the 25th of August, 1560, and its work was radical in the ex treme. The jurisdiction of the pope was abolished, all laws favorable to Rome or hostile to Protestant ism were repealed, and death was threatened for a third conviction of celebrating the mass. The old church was wholly swept away, and the revolution was political no less than religious. Though the king and queen, then absent in France — Francis and Mary " Queen of Scots " — were asked to ratify these acts, the people of Scotland had really taken the government of the land from them in the most The Church of Scotland. 327 vital matters, and the royal refusal to approve the acts of parliament robbed those acts of no real force. Parliament did more than abolish the Roman obedience. It adopted, on August 17, 1560, as the doctrinal standard of Scotland a Confession drafted in four days by Knox and five associates — though doubtless representing much previous thought and study on the part of the Scotch reformer. This Confession remained the lawful standard of belief in Scotland till 1690, when the Westminster Confession, which the General Assembly of the Scottish Church had approved in 1647, received legal sanction in the Revolution settlement under William and Mary. Calvinistic in doctrine, the Confession of 1560 found the notes of the Church to be not only " the trew preaching of the Worde of God" and "the right administration of the Sacraments," but also "ec clesiastical discipline uprightlie ministered." It affirmed that a principal duty of " Kings, Princes, Rulers and Magistrates" is "for maintenance of the trew Religioun, and for suppressing of Idolatrie and Superstitioun whatsoever. " Curiously enough, in view of the later history of Scotch religious thought, the Confession, while declaring that "it becummis al things to be done decently and in or- dour," added : " not that we think that any policie and an ordour in ceremonies can be appoynted for alages, times, and places." It was to be Knox's great successor in the leadership of Scottish thought, Andrew Melville (1 545-1622), who was to impress upon Scotland the jure divino estimate of Presby- terianism. 328 The Reformation. Knox's own conception of what the constitution and government of the Scottish Church should be was worked out in part in the spring of 1560, and completely drafted immediately after the adjourn ment of the memorable parliament of August of that year. With the assistance of other ministers, he set forth what is generally known as the " First Book of Discipline" — the "Book" largely prepared by Andrew Melville, and approved by the General As sembly in 1578, being the "Second." According to this constitution, the Church was ordered essen tially on the Presbyterian pattern that had gone forth from Geneva, with ' ' sessions ' ' of ministers, elders and deacons as the governing body in each local congregation ; with stated meetings of ministers and educated men in the larger towns, which soon de veloped into "presbyteries ;" with district "syn ods" of ministers and delegated elders ; and with the national " General Assembly " of ministers and delegated elders as the crown. The first General Assembly met in December, 1560. Yet the Gene van system was modified by what was probably de signed to be a temporary expedient analogous to the polity of Lutheranism — the establishment of "super intendents," each charged with the administration of a particular district. The scarcity of educated Protestant ministers led also to the appointment of devout laymen as "readers" and "exhorters." By this constitution the Church became essentially self- governing ; and its officers were received not only on examination and approbation by the representative bodies of the Church, but, after due election, by the The Church of Scotland. 329 people whom they were to serve. Could Knox and his ministerial associates have had their own way, the income of the Roman establishment would have been devoted to schools, church expenses, and char ity ; but here they were frustrated by the greed of the nobles. This opposition and hostility to the disciplinary features of the " Book" made it impos sible to secure for its provisions the sanction of the civil government, but the model sketched therein was that essentially to which Knox succeeded in moulding the Scottish Church. Saints' days, images, crosses, organs and candles were done away. Pub lic worship was ordered on the model of that of the English congregation at Geneva, of which Knox had been pastor — a liturgy being employed, yet with even more liberty than in the Calvinistic service of Ge neva for the minister to use his own words to voice the prayers of the congregation. In 1564, this Genevan form of worship was enlarged into a Book of Common Order, usually, though rather mislead- ingly, called "Knox's Liturgy." Thus, before the close of the year 1560, the Scot tish Church had taken on most of its permanent characteristics. Knox himself was settled in that year as minister at Edinburgh. But the ground which he had won had yet to be defended in fierce battle, and the contest began when, after the death of her husband, Francis II. of France, in December, 1560, the widowed Mary "Queen of Scots" re turned, in August, 1 561, to her native land, deter mined to curb what she deemed rebellion, to restore the Roman obedience, and with far-reaching schemes 330 The Reformation. for gaining ultimate possession of the English throne floating before her fancy. In Knox and in the spirit which he had nurtured she met the chief stumbling- blocks. The battle which he fought was waged with weapons of invective on his part that seem coarse and often brutal, his bitterness and intolerance are repulsive to our altered age, but that battle was none the less one for popular sovereignty and re ligious freedom. It was self-governing Scotland against an unrepresentative sovereign. "What are you in this commonwealth? " asked Mary of Knox in 1563. "A subject born within the same," he replied, "and though neither earl, lord, nor baron, God has made me a profitable member." When Mary had mass celebrated before her at Holyrood on the Sunday following her return, Knox affirmed that "one mass was more fearful to him than ten thousand armed enemies ;" later he preached no less vehemently against the frivolities of the court, and he was the unsparing public opponent of her Ro manizing policy. These views he did not hesitate to defend boldly to her face, arguing that subjects may rightfully depose a ruler who opposes the Word of God, criticising her proposed marriage, and speak ing with the freedom of the Hebrew prophets, whom he took for his model. Yet Knox's success was greatly facilitated by Mary's misdeeds and misfortunes, and had her per sonal reign in Scotland continued as it began, the story of the struggle might have been very different. At her coming, Mary's position commanded great sympathy. A widow who had just been deprived Mary Stuart. 33 1 by the death of her husband, not only of a share in one of the proudest thrones in Europe, but of all in fluence on French affairs, she returned to her own country to find it torn from the ancient faith and in the hands of new rulers. Mary acted with much shrewdness. Though she had her own Roman wor ship, she did not openly attack Protestantism ; she professed her willingness to overlook the past and her affection for her Scotch subjects ; she won many friends by her attractive personality and cordial man ners ; and she speedily had the support of all to whom the recent radical changes in religion and in politics were distasteful. A considerable reaction began. But whatever outward compliance Mary assumed in matters that lay beyond her power to alter, she never swerved from her purpose to secure the Eng lish throne in addition to that of Scotland, either before or after the death of Elizabeth, and to rule as a Roman Catholic sovereign. To this end she labored to secure English recognition as Elizabeth's heir. To this end, also, she entered into negotia tions, in 1563, looking toward her marriage with Don Carlos, the crown prince of Spain. Mary's French relatives, the Guises, frustrated the hoped- for match out of fear of political injury to France ; and Mary then turned her thoughts to marriage with Henry Stuart, Lord Darnley — the next heir to the English throne should Mary die. It was not love so much as politics that dictated the match, for not only did it better Mary's prospects of be coming Elizabeth's successor, but Darnley, though 332 The Reformation. a Protestant, had the favor of the English Roman party, by whom Elizabeth was opposed. Earl Mur ray and others of the Protestant lords rose in oppo sition to the queen, and called on Elizabeth for help, which she did not grant ; but on July 29, 1565, the marriage with Darnley took place, and Mary speedily put down all armed resistance. To Mary the time now seemed favorable for the restoration of the Roman obedience, and as a step in ridding herself of dependence on the Protestant Scotch nobility, she now made prominent among her advisers an Italian favorite, David Rizzio. But the weak and jealous Darnley was easily led by the disaffected nobles into a conspiracy against the supplanting Catholic foreigner, and Rizzio was murdered on March 9, 1566. This murder led to an open rupture between Mary and Darnley — a cleft which was not healed even by the birth of their son, James VI., later to be James I. of England, on the 19th of the following June. On February 10, 1567, Darnley him self was murdered — with what degree of connivance on Mary's part has been ever since one of the battle grounds of historic discussion. The bad matter was speedily made worse by Mary's assent to her own abduction by one of the chief participants in Darn- ley's death, James Hepburn, earl of Bothwell, in the April following her husband's murder, and her marriage to Bothwell on May 15 th of the same year. Though Mary was married by the Protestant rite and allowed action against further Roman worship, the marriage was too odious, the queen too much distrusted, and Bothwell too thoroughly hated, to Mary Stuart. 333 allow the toleration of the existing state of affairs by the great nobles of Scotland. On June 15, 1567, Mary became a prisoner in their hands, and Bothwell only saved himself by flight. The captive queen was forced to abdicate, on the 24th of the fol lowing July, in favor of her infant son, James VI., and of a regency to be administered by her half- brother, the earl of Murray, the most eminent lay- leader of the Protestant party. But Mary had by no means abandoned the aims for the accomplish ment of which she had so long struggled. On May 2, 1568, she escaped from her imprisonment at Loch- leven ; and, thanks to the support of the noble house of Hamilton, she soon had an army of six thousand. Yet she met defeat at the hands of Murray eleven days after her escape, and fled to England, to cast herself on the mercy of Elizabeth, only to remain in that land a scheming prisoner, the hope of English Catholics and the fear of English Protestants, till her execution at Fotheringay, as a conspirator against Elizabeth, on February 8, 1587. With the passing of power from the hands of Mary in Scotland, Protestantism in that land was fairly secure, though its dangers were not wholly past so long as Mary lived. The Scottish parlia ment following her abdication in 1567 gave full legal status to the Protestant Church of Scotland, which thus became by law established. But the turbulent condition of Scotch politics, religious and secular, continued. The regent, Murray, who seems to have deserved his popular title, "the Good," fell by an assassin's shot on January 23, 1570. The earl of 334 The Reformation. Lennox, who succeeded him, met a similar fate in September of the following year. The next regent, the earl of Mar, lived only till the autumn of 1572, when he was followed by the earl of Morton. On the day of Morton's appointment, November 24, John Knox died. Till October, 1570, when he suf fered partial disablement by reason of an apoplectic stroke, Knox had been foremost in urging the more positive and radical features of the Scottish Refor mation. He had denounced Mary's furtherance of Romanism and her personal misdeeds with the ut most plainness of speech, and he pursued her with unbending hostility as the chief enemy of the land. His had been the largest popular following and the chief instrumentality in the establishment of Scotch Protestantism. From his paralytic seizure he la bored on with something of his old fire till shortly before his death. He saw and took part in the be ginnings of that long struggle with "Prelacy" — that is, between pure Presbyterianism and any form of Episcopacy — that was not to be ended till 1690. To some extent he was a disappointed man in his last days. He failed to bring about much that, he desired in the reformation of the Church, and es pecially of education. He saw many plans frus trated, as he believed, by the greed and unspiritual- ity of the nobles. But when he died at Edinburgh it was in the fulness of an accomplished work of vast dimensions ; and no more fitting characteriza tion was ever spoken of him than the often-quoted words of Regent Morton at his grave : " Here lies one who never feared the face of man." CHAPTER VIII. THE MORE RADICAL REFORMERS. jT has already been pointed out, in con nection with the radical movements that preceded and found their expres sion in the Peasants' War of Germany and the rise of the Anabaptists of Switzerland, that to many the Reformation as guided by Luther and Zwingli seemed but a half- accomplished task. To the thinking of these radi cals, the reformers just named were the foes rather than the friends of a thorough purification of the Church. The reverence paid by Luther and Zwingli and their associates to civil rulers, their retention of rites such as infant baptism, their deference to the letter of the Scripture, their inclusion of all non-excommunicate inhabitants of a country in its State Church, seemed to one element or another of these radicals incompatible with any complete and praiseworthy reform. As in all movements which profoundly stir men, the more moderate party of the spiritual revolution was accompanied by many groups, of most varying shades of opinion, having little affinity one with another, but each more ex treme than it in breaking with the heretofore estab lished orthodoxy. 33 S 336 The Reformation. The question of the exact origin and ancestry of these more radical manifestations of the revolution ary spirit is difficult and controverted. To some investigators it would seem that these radicals were simply the survivals of Evangelical mediaeval sects, with whom Luther stood at first in spiritual affinity and from whom he fell away in the direction of a less spiritual dependence on the State and an in sistence on a rigid doctrinal system. Others can see in these movements but the extreme radical outlappings of the waves started by the Wittenberg and Swiss reformers. For either of these positions many arguments may be urged. Certain it is that much popular criticism of mediaeval Romanism per sisted, in Waldensian opinions, in the views of the German and Dutch mystics, in the ascetic and often chiliastic beliefs of the stricter Franciscans, and affected the religious thinking of many, especially of the lower orders of Germany, Holland and Switzerland, in the early years of the sixteenth cen tury. And it seems plain, too, that Luther was gradually led by stress of conflict and fear of fanati cism to look upon his reform less as simply a revival of heart -piety and more as the establishment of a purified and state-defended dogmatic system. Luther owed much to the mystics and to the more Evangelical of mediaeval leaders like Bernhard ; but Luther's work was far too profoundly and originally his own to make it possible to identify him with any stream of mediaeval Evangelical tendency. That work so stirred Germany as to render it everywhere a creative and transforming source of impulse. Origin of the Radicals. 337 The truth seems probably to be that the original motive cause of these more extreme Reformation movements came from the great leaders of the Sax on and the Swiss revolts ; but that in many quar ters more or less latent anti-Roman beliefs inherited from an earlier time modified the views of those who were thus stirred to active revolt from Rome. They read their fresh German Testament, they in terpreted the new Evangelical preaching, in the light that came from Waldensian asceticism, from mystic indifference to formal dogma, and from chil iastic and separatist ideals of the Christian life born in an older day. But though in many things thus representative of earlier tendencies, these extremer movements were even more children of the six teenth century Reformation. They were called into being by it. They were not demonstrably in organic continuity with the mediaeval anti-Roman sects. They sought an individualism in the inter pretation of truth and a spiritual freedom of which the middle ages had little conception. These qualities, characteristic of many of the ex tremer movements of the sixteenth century, are conspicuously illustrated in the most influential and widespread of them all— that of the Anabaptists. The origin of this numerous party has already been spoken of in narrating the early work of Luther and the reformatory efforts of Zwingli. It was then pointed out how the radicals of northern Germany broke with Luther in 1522, and how a somewhat similar division occurred in Zurich and its vicinity less than two years later. It was noted that the 338 The Reformation. Zurich government began the forcible repression of the Anabaptists by 1525, and in January, 1527, put Felix Manz to death for his faith. Repressed with iron hand in Switzerland, they speedily spread throughout southern Germany, the Tyrol, and Aus tria. Augsburg, where the mystic, Hans Denk, and the fanatic, Hans Hut, labored ; Strassburg, where Capito was for a time almost won over to the Ana baptist position, and where Denk and many others preached ; the Tyrol, where Georg Blaurock and Jacob Huter spread wide the Anabaptist faith ; and Moravia, where the noble Balthasar Hubmaier, and afterward Jacob Huter, found large following, be came for a time largely permeated by Anabaptist beliefs. Nuremberg, Passau, Regensburg, Salz burg, Linz and Vienna all had their circles of ad herents. These radicals came largely from the lower orders, especially the city artisans ; but they were not without a considerable admixture of men of position and education. Grebel was of a patri cian family of Zurich, Manz a Hebrew scholar of talent, Hubmaier a teacher in the university at In- golstadt and a cathedral preacher at Regensburg, Denk served as rector of St. Sebaldus's school at Nuremberg, and Goschel had been suffragan bishop of Olmiitz. Many others prominent among the Anabaptists were men of education. But persecu tion everywhere followed them. The Reichstag of Speier, in 1529, called on all in authority, whether Protestant or Catholic, to put them to death. Their leaders fell rapidly. Denk died of the plague in 1527, Hut perished the same year in prison, Hub- The Anabaptists. 339 maier was burned at Vienna in 1528, strenuously denying the right of the magistrate to interfere in matters of belief, and anticipating by more than a century Roger Williams's doctrine of "soul-lib erty," Blaurock was burned in the Tyrol in 1529, and Huter suffered a like fate in the same land in 1535- It would be impossible to ascribe anything like a compact system of belief to these early Anabaptists; but in some things there was a very general agree ment. They rejected infant baptism. They limited the rite to those who could receive it with repent ance and faith. They held that the Christian believers of a local community should separate from their unbelieving associates, and that these local groups of Christians should choose their own officers and administer their own discipline. They regarded the New Testament as a "new law," and hence they were seldom willing to admit Luther's doctrine of justification by faith alone as he taught it. To them, as to the mediaeval sects, an external and ascetic imitation of the life of Christ seemed a main element in the Christian ideal. They very generally rejected oaths, and they largely held that though magistrates were a necessity for the unbelieving, the Christian was under another law than that of the sword and could neither accept judicial office nor engage in military service. Many taught community of goods ; though it is interesting to observe that so eminent an Anabaptist leader as Hubmaier joined neither in this denunciation of magistrates nor this opposition to private property. All rejected the State-supported 340 The Reformation. and all-inclusive Evangelicalism of the Saxon and Swiss reformers, no less than Roman Catholicism, as worldly and un-Biblical in organization and spirit. Here, therefore, intermingled with many mediaeval ideas of reform, were some thoughts anticipatory of the beliefs of the more modern Baptists, Congrega- tionalists and Quakers. In these teachings, the con ceptions of the Church as made up of local, self- governing congregations composed of professed and experimental disciples of Christ; of the Bible as the only rule of Christian organization as well as of Chris tian faith; of baptism as a rite for believers only; of war and of oaths as forbidden to the Christian, were made emphatic. The cleft between them and the State-churchism of the more conservative reformers was too deep to be bridged by any possibility. As persecution had been the means of spreading the Anabaptists from Switzerland through southern Germany and Austria, so its continuance in those lands extended them rapidly over northern Germany and Holland. In the last-named country, especially, Anabaptist beliefs worked powerfully among the lower orders. By far the greater part of the Ana baptists of all these regions were quiet and simply religious, though prevailingly ignorant, people ; but intermingled with them were representatives of a fanatic tendency such as had been manifested by Thomas Munzer, himself hardly to be classed as an Anabaptist, in the Peasants' War. Persecution and the consequent death of many of the wiser leaders of the Anabaptist movement strengthened this chiliastic fanaticism. Men readily believed that a The Anabaptists. 341 cause which human opposition rendered so hopeless, and yet which seemed to them that of the Gospel, must triumph by divine intervention. The Lord's coming and the visible reign of the saints must be at hand. Such a fanatic leader of the Anabaptists appeared in Melchior Hofmann. A furrier by occupation, he was without other education than that derived from extensive acquaintance with the Bible — the prophet ical portions of which had for him a special fascina tion. Eagerly embracing Lutheranism, he served as its apostle in a stormy evangelism in the Livonian cities of Wolmar, Dorpat and Riga from 1523 to 1525, enjoying for a time the approval of Luther himself. But he soon became marked as an extrem ist, and was driven successively from Livonia, Sweden and Holstein. Embracing Zwingli's views of the Supper, he found refuge in Strassburg in 1529, and here became fully an Anabaptist. Peculiar views as to Christ's human nature involving a denial that it was derived from the Virgin, and interpre tations of the Apocalypse that represented the visi ble reign of Christ as to begin in 1533, combined with claims to prophetic divine guidance in inducing the Strassburg authorities to oppose him ; and, from 1530 to 1533, he preached with great popular follow ing in Friesland and Holland. Here he was regarded by many as a prophet, and he seems sincerely to have credited the assertion of one of his followers that after enduring a half year of imprisonment at Strassburg, he should make that city the centre of the millennial dispensation from which an hun- 342 The Reformation. dred and forty-four thousand missionaries should go forth to convert the world. To Strassburg, there fore, he went, and was duly imprisoned in 1533, which he believed to be the dawning time of the new dis pensation ; and in prison he lay till death opened the door ten years later. It was from among the disciples of Hofmann's fruitful propaganda in the Netherlands that the movement went forth which was to bring to the Ana baptists of continental Europe their almost over whelming disaster in the fanatic episode of the Miin- ster kingdom. Jan Mathys, a baker of Haarlem, announced a few months after Hofmann's imprison ment had begun, that he himself was the prophet Enoch whom Hofmann had foretold would appear immediately prior to the final judgment. The claim found wide acceptance, and nowhere so much as at Munster in Westphalia — a city which, though the see of a Roman bishop, had passed, largely under the leadership of the bishop's chaplain, Bernt Roth- mann, from Lutheranism through Zwinglianism, by 1 533, to Anabaptist sympathies. Though opposed by the bishop and the aristocracy of the city, Roth- mann had the warm support of many of the common people, led by a democratic social reformer, Bernt Knipperdolling. Here, then, there seemed to the followers of Mathys to be a city that might serve as the earthly New Jerusalem ; God having rejected Strassburg, they affirmed, by reason of the unbelief of its inhabitants. To Munster, Mathys sent his fellow-fanatic, Jan Beuckelssen, known as John of Leyden, early in 1534, whither Mathys himself and The Munster Tragedy. 343 hundreds of Netherlandish and German Anabaptists speedily followed. Rothmann and Knipperdolling were carried away by the new prophets ; and these prophets, far from sympathizing with the patience with which Hofmann was willing to wait for the ful filment of what he believed to be God's promises, appealed to arms to establish the visible kingdom of God by force. They soon wrung toleration from the Munster authorities, while immigrating fellow- believers constantly swelled the ranks of their followers. In February, 1534, Knipperdolling was chosen burgomaster, and the Anabaptists had plainly the upper hand. The "godless" — that is, the oppo nents of the Anabaptists — were speedily driven from the city by prophetic command. A communistic distribution of property was instituted and polygamy preached. The city was affirmed to be under the rule of God through his prophets, and to be but the starting-point in the spread of the divine kingdom over the earth. But the expelled inhabitants of Munster appealed to the orderly elements of northern Germany, Ro man and Protestant alike. By May, 1 534, the bishop had hemmed the city fairly in with an army that ultimately included supporters and opponents of the papacy. The defence was heroic. Mathys died in battle, and was succeeded as head-prophet by John of Leyden, who was soon proclaimed king by divine appointment. As the siege grew more har assing the fanaticism of the beleaguered Anabap tists increased. Books were burned. A code of laws drawn from the Pentateuch was introduced. 344 The Reformation. Twelve "elders" formed the court of justice. Those who opposed them or the king were "rooted out from among the people of God " by the execu tioner. The king took such wives as he chose, and every woman was compelled to own some one as her husband. No greater exhibition of perverted religion, despotism and sensuality could be con ceived. But the end came with the capture of Munster on June 24, 1535, the death of Rothmann in the storming of the city, the massacre of many of its defenders, the execution by savage torture of King John and Knipperdolling, and the exclusion from Munster of any form of opposition to Rome. For the Anabaptist cause the Munster episode was a terrible catastrophe. Though the fanatics who there misruled were really representative of a relatively small portion of the Anabaptists, they were taken to be typical of all ; and Munster was held up for three centuries as illustrative of what the Anabaptists would be could they once get the upper hand. Only with the last few decades has a kindlier judgment regarding the movement as a whole won general recognition. With the fall of Munster, Anabaptist influence in Germany was substantially at an end. The author ities vigorously rooted out those that remained, and public sentiment regarded this severity as wholly justified. In the Netherlands the collapse was far less complete, and that the Anabaptist cause was there rescued was due to the pacific teachings, de voted character and organizing ability of Menno Simons— the restorer of Anabaptism. Such a work Later Anabaptists. 345 was needed, for some of the leaders of the Nether- land Anabaptists after the fall of Munster were no more worthy than those who had perished in that catastrophe. David Joris, to cite the most noto rious, persuaded a considerable following that he was himself the Messiah of a better kingdom than that of Christ, in which the members were no longer bound by the old laws of morality. Active from 1536 onward, he was soon driven from Delft, and lived from 1544 to his death in 1556, at Basel, under an assumed name and ostensibly as a Zwing lian, while sending out constant publications in sup port of his fanatic claims. His followers were to be found in small numbers for years after his death. In Menno Simons, however, the Anabaptists had a leader of a very different stamp. Born at Witmar- sum, in Friesland, about 1492, he became a priest of the Roman Church in his native district, but was profoundly moved by the leaven of the German and Swiss Reformations. Like many others prominent in Anabaptist circles, he passed from some sympa thy with the conservative reformers to more radical views. By 1532, he wasa secret disciple of Hof mann in many doctrines; and, by 1534, he seems to have had relations with the Anabaptist party. Yet it was not till 1536 that he resigned his Roman priesthood, and soon after took the leadership of the moderate element of the Dutch Anabaptists. From that time till his death in 1559, Menno Simons la bored indefatigably in Holland, Friesland, Cologne and Holstein, as opportunity offered, opposing all that savored of Munster, urging non-resistance, 346 The Reformation. developing peaceable, industrious congregations, chiefly of artisans, insisting on strict discipline and exemplary morality, and endeavoring by pen and voice to remove the stigma under which Anabap- tism suffered. In this work he had marked success ; and, at his death, the " Mennonites " were firmly established in the Netherlands and relatively feebly represented in Germany. In the last-named land the Anabaptist movement had ceased to be signifi cant. In Holland, on the other hand, the Men nonites obtained toleration from William the Silent in 1575-77; and from thence, through contact with English reformers in the seventeenth century, their., views, especially their conception of the- visible Church as composed of self-governing local congre gations of professed disciples of Christ rather than of all the baptized inhabitants of a country, and their theory that baptism is an ordinance forpersgnal.be- lievers and not for infants, have won wide following in England and America, and have profoundlyjn- fluenced the religious and political development of the New World. The Anabaptists constituted by far the most im portant of the radical parties of the Reformation age ; but there were several other attempts of some signifi cance to effect a purification of the Church along lines unlike those pursued by Luther, Melanchthon, Zwingli and Calvin. Such an attempt in the direc tion of a subjective, mystical spiritualization of religion and of the Church was that of Sebastian Franck. Born in 1499, at Donauworth, Franck studied at Ingolstadt and at Heidelberg, and entered Sebastian Franck. 347 the Roman priesthood. But, by 1527, he was labor ing as a strict Lutheran in the region about Nurem berg. Greatly impressed by Luther's moulding thoughts always, he nevertheless speedily began to query why it was that the Lutheran Reformation often failed to effect the moral improvement of its professed adherents. He urged the enforcement of church discipline ; but he soon came to regard that prescription as insufficient, and to advocate more drastic remedies. To his earnest, mystical temper ament the weakness of Lutheranism seemed to con sist in its externalism of organization and worship, and its dependence of the letter of the Scriptures. The time was at hand, he declared, in 1530, just as Melanchthon was crystallizing Lutheran doctrine in the Augsburg Confession, when preaching, cere monies, sacraments, excommunications, and the ex ternal visible Church should be swept away, and in its place should be recognized an invisible spiritual Church composed of all Christians and ruled without external means by the inward monitions of the Spirit of God. The Word of God he would find in nature and in history no less than in the Scriptures. Slav ery to the letter of the Bible, Franck held to be the source of all the sects and divisions of Christendom. The Scriptures can be understood only spiritually. Hence, Franck rejected all the religious parties of his day, Roman, Lutheran, Zwinglian and Anabap tist ; and, consistently with his own principles, abandoned all ecclesiastical office, from 1528 on ward, and attempted to gather no organized band of disciples. His life was one of persecution. From 348 The Reformation. 1529 to 1 531, Strassburg gave him a precarious home. Next he gained a scanty living as a soap-boiler at Esslingen, then as a printer at Ulm from 1533 to 1539, and in the same employment at Basel till death put an end to his troubled career in 1542 or 1543. Had Franck not been gifted with a German prose style second in popular effectiveness only to that of Luther himself, his singularities of opinion would have covered his name with speedy oblivion ; but so vigorous was his pen that his numerous pam phlets and volumes were reprinted and read in Ger many, and even more in Holland, for more than a century after his death. They formed the basis of no sect ; but, though condemned by Protestant and Roman theologians, they influenced the thinking of many who were far from accepting all his conclu sions. A man of somewhat similar tendencies to those of Franck, though less radical and of more perma nent influence, was Kaspar Schwenkfeld, a member of a noble Silesian family, born at Ossig in 1489, educated at Cologne, and, as a young man, em ployed in the court-service of Duke Friedrich II. of the Liegnitz branch of the Silesian line. A disciple of Luther as early as 15 19, he was one of the first to further the introduction of Lutheranism into Si lesia. He made the personal acquaintance of the Wittenberg divines, and for several years worked in harmony with them. But as Franck was led to question why the Evangelical doctrines often bore little fruit in the lives of their adherents, so Schwenk feld queried, and his answer was much the same. Kaspar Schwenkfeld. 349 The Evangelicalism of Luther seemed to him too external and objective, its use of Scripture too literal and unspiritual, its doctrine of justification by faith alone perilous unless the life of God in the believer was put in the foreground. The inner, true, regen erative Word of God in the Christian is the indwell ing Christ ; and though Schwenkfeld by no means denied the worth of the written Word of God, he taught that it was supplemented, understood and rightly interpreted only by the inner light which comes from that divine indwelling. These were decided departures from the type of theology and conceptions of the Church and of the Bible which Luther was championing by the time of the Peasants' War; but Schwenkfeld, about 1525, added another heresy by his peculiar teaching regarding that burning doctrinal question of the third decade of the sixteenth century — the nature of Christ's presence in the Supper. His mystic, spiritualizing temperament would not interpret with Luther Christ's words as meaning: "This is my actual physical body ; ' ' nor with Zwingli as : " This signifies my body." To him they were understand able only as: "My body is this, namely, spiritual food . . . my blood is this, namely, spiritual drink. ' ' And by this Schwenkfeld signified not so much the theory of Christ's spiritual presence which Calvin was later to champion and Melanchthon to approach as a Quaker-like minification of all that was material in the sacraments. Discussions with Luther did not change his position, and his stay in his native Silesia was rendered so uncomfortable 35c> The Reformation. that, in 1529, he removed to Strassburg. There he found refuge till 1533 ; but from thence onward to his death at Ulm, in 1561, he was without any long- continuing home, meeting constant opposition, and in turn opposing the great men of the Evangelical movement in Germany and Switzerland. Southern Germany was the chief scene of his labors, and here he wrote, debated and won disciples as opportunity offered. A theory of the nature of Christ's body, somewhat resembling the view of Melchior Hof mann, and denying the physical participation of the Saviour in our common created humanity as that par ticipation has been ordinarily explained, added to the divergence between him and the conservative Evan gelical leaders. On Schwenkfeld Luther poured out most contemptuous and vituperative denunciation, and Melanchthon, when both were nearly at the goal of life, urged the magistrates to suppress his teachings ; but his character, piety and Christian sincerity were above all reproach, and Schwenkfeld stands as one of the noblest figures among the minor leaders of the Reformation age. Unlike Franck, Schwenkfeld had no hostility to organized congregations, however critical he might be of what he deemed the externalism of the Ro man, Lutheran or Zwinglian church-constitutions. Yet he did not undertake to found a sect. At his death his adherents were to be met with in consider able numbers in Augsburg and Nuremberg, in vari ous towns of Wiirtemberg, the Palatinate, the Tyrol, and of his native Silesia. In the last-named region of Germany they gathered into congregations The Libertines. 351 after Schwenkfeld's demise, which endured much persecution and from which refugees found a home across the Atlantic, in Pennsylvania, in 1734, where, though few in numbers, they still honor Schwenk feld's name and maintain a vigorous religious life. Like all epochs in which men are profoundly stirred to consideration of religion, the Reformation age had its little eddies of pantheistic antinomian- ism. Such a party was that which called itself the " Spirituels, " but which its opponents styled the "Libertines," as, in their judgment, a more appro priate designation. It seems to have had its begin nings in the preaching of an enthusiast named Cop- pin, at Lille, about 1529, and to have been carried within a few months from its home in the French- speaking Netherlands to France itself by a certain Quintin from the district of Hainault, by Antoine Pocquet, once a priest of the Roman communion, and by others of whom little memorial beyond their names has been preserved. To their thinking, all is but a manifestation of the one Spirit — all is God. Hence nothing can be really bad, and the regenerate man is the one who recognizes that the common distinction between good and bad acts is baseless, since all alike are the work of God, and who there fore attains the innocence which Adam had before he knew good and evil. Taught as a secret doc trine to the initiate, these views found considerable acceptance not only in their native Netherlands, but in France, where their supporters obtained pro tection for a time from that tolerent friend of the French reformers and free-thinkers alike, Marguerite 352 The Reformation. d'Angouleme, Queen of Navarre, at her little court in Nerac. But they found a powerful opponent in Calvin, who encountered Quintin, probably in Paris, and, afterward, Pocquet at Geneva. His attacks upon this antinomian sect in 1544 and 1547, and a letter sent by him to Marguerite in 1545, seem to have been largely effective in bringing it to an end. It could never have had a vigorous life. Though its views found following at Geneva itself, as re lated in a previous chapter, and gave a name to an important party of Calvin's opponents, the Gene van "Libertines," as a whole, were more moved by political than by speculative impulses, and are only partially to be classed with the full Spirituels. Less radical in its denial of sin and more perma nent in its influence, perhaps because more a re ligion and less a system of philosophy than the theories of the "Spirituels," was the "Family of Love." Like the Spirituels, the " Familists," as they were often called, originated in the Nether lands ; but their beginning was in the Teutonic rather than the French-speaking portion of the land. The founder, Henrick Niclaes, was a Dutchman only by adoption. Born in Munster, in 1501 or 1502, Niclaes was trained in the cloth-dealer's trade, and proved himself a successful man of business. As a boy of eight, he believed that he saw visions sent from God ; but through his youth and early man hood the ecstatic tendency seems not to have been repeated. About 1530 he removed to Amsterdam, and came under radical Anabaptist influences, no tably those emanating from David Joris, of whom The Family of Love. 353 mention has been made earlier in this chapter as the leader of the extremest type of Dutch Anabap- tism after the fall of Munster. Here he believed that the visions of his childhood were renewed, and, in 1539 or 1540, he claimed that he had received a divine call to ' ' reveal love ' ' as the one cardinal principle of religion, and to embody this principle in a new religious organization — the ' ' Family of Love. ' ' The world had seen two dispensations, Niclaes de clared — those of Law and of Faith. He himself was the prophet of the third — that of Love. Of the " Family," Niclaes held himself to be the " bishop," while under him he attempted to establish an elab orate hierarchy of "elders," "archbishops," and various orders of " priests." A new year, of thir teen months, with new festivals, he designed to take the place of the historic Christian calendar. He who was of the " Family " was no longer under any law, he could no more sin, he was in some de gree made partaker of the divine nature by love. These views Niclaes disseminated by writing and preaching, making his home, from 1540 to 1560, in Emden, where he prospered in trade From Emden he made missionary excursions through the Nether lands, to France and to England. The last-named country he visited in 1552 or 1553, and gained quite a number of disciples, who petitioned Parliament for toleration in 1574, and sought the same boon from James I. in 1604, only to feel the hand of the gov ernment heavy upon them. Niclaes's later life was spent at Cologne, where he died about 1580, and his followers are traceable on the Continent till about 354 The Reformation. 1614, and in England till 1649. Though often ac cused of gross immoralities, the charges seem not thoroughly sustained, and the Familists as a whole appear to have been fairly harmless fanatics ; but the names " Familist," "Libertine," and "Anti- nomian " were regarded with horror by the English Puritans and Scottish Presbyterians of the seven teenth century. In a certain sense all modern church history, with its kaleidoscopic exhibitions of the divisions of Christendom, is a consequence of the freedom which the Reformation won ; but the greater part of these modern subdivisions of Protestantism, so important for present ecclesiastical life, belong to a period later than that treated in this volume. The radical forces just described and the anti-Trinitarian speculations outlined in an earlier chapter were the most im portant variant presentations of doctrine, polity and religious life that accompanied the great revolt from Rome. In them were presented a great variety of opinions, from views which extensive modern religious bodies regard as true interpretations of the Gospel to such thoroughly un-Christian ec centricities as those of Thomas Munzer, John of Leyden, David Joris, and Henrick Niclaes. With these fanatic extremists, one can have little sym pathy ; but as one studies the story of such mod erate and devoted Anabaptists as Hubmaier and Menno Simons, or of such spiritually-minded mys tics as Franck and Schwenkfeld, one is moved to a high regard. When one recalls their patient en durance of persecution, their devotion to truth as Value of the Radicals. 355 they understood it, and their courageous faith, one is often tempted to query whether they did not ex hibit more of the spirit of Christ than did the more conservative reformers who persecuted them. In spite of all their crudities and mistakes, they were prophets of a freedom to come. But one recalls, also, that could even the most moderate of these radicals have mastered the situation in the sixteenth century, the Evangelical movement would have ended in division, weakness and failure. The na tions long trained under the discipline which Rome had enforced could not have passed at once in safety to such a freedom as now exists in America. The results would have been anarchy and death. Well was it for Christianity, on the whole, that those who revolted from Rome underwent the tutelage and restraint which was imposed by Luther, Zwingli, and Calvin, and by the princes and magistrates of the Protestant party. They were ready for greater freedom than the middle ages knew how to use. They were not yet trained for such freedom as the more moderate radicals desired. The time of readiness had not yet come. Such license as the destructive and fanatic radicals wished is, of course, impossible of realization in any age of the world. It would have been the destruction of Chris tianity. CHAPTER IX. THE COUNTER-REFORMATION. IT was pointed out, in speaking of the Spanish Awakening, that the Reforma tion age beheld a struggle between two great types of Reform rather than a contest between active revolution and passive inactivity. At the same time, it was re marked that, had it not been for the stimulus of the Protestant revolt, a general Reformation of the Roman Church from within might never have been effected. The lines which that Roman Reformation were to take were, indeed, clearly marked out, a generation before Luther began his work, in the Spanish Awakening — itself but the most thorough going and extensive of several conservative attempts to purify the Church. It aimed to fill clerical offices with men of piety and churchly zeal. It sought to limit the worst of papal abuses, often by increasing the power of the crown in ecclesiastical matters. It endeavored to use the results of the revival of learn* ing in the service of the Church, and to foster the education of the clergy. It strove to make the theology of the best period of the middle ages once more a living science. It stimulated missionary 356 Aims of the Movement. 357 zeal. But it was fiercely intolerant of modifications in doctrine or of separations from the Roman com munion, and would repress them by every effective means. The Inquisition — developed in its intense Spanish form before Protestantism was thought of — was its characteristic instrument. Yet, had it not been for the ferment of the Protestant revolt there is no reason to suppose that a restoration of the strength of the Roman communion from within would have become a counter-Reformation coex tensive with Latin" Christendom. Many of the steps of that conservative Roman movement have already been noted in this narrative. Its strenuous beginnings in Spain under Ferdinand and Isabella, ably assisted by Ximenes, have been described. The labors of Campegi, begun in 1524, to restore Catholicism in southern Germany, and to relieve the pressure there of the extremer papal ad ministrative abuses, have been glanced at. Some account has been given of the revival of religion among the higher ecclesiastics of Italy, manifested in the Oratory of Divine Love, or even more in such an organization for the cultivation of preaching and the stimulation of a warmer spiritual churchly life as the Theatine Order founded in 1524. This Ital ian revival, it was seen, enlisted the sympathy of men as unlike in temperament as Contarini and Caraffa, and owed not a little to the stimulating touch of the Spanish Awakening, which Caraffa at least looked upon as largely the ideal of what a churchly Reformation should be. It is evident, therefore, that though the papacy, in its worldliness 358 The Reformation. and devotion to politics, still failed to grasp the situation, and though effective theological opposi tion to Lutheranism had not made itself felt, by the time that the Augsburg Confession was formulated, in 1530, the counter-Reformation was vigorously reaching out from the Spanish peninsula and had obtained a footing in Italy and Germany, as well as the cordial sympathies of the Emperor Charles V. Most important was it for the future of the Roman Church that the spirit of the counter-Reformation should gain control of the papacy. That control was not easily won, for no portion of the Roman Church had become more thoroughly secularized than the papacy and its associated curia at the be ginning of the sixteenth century. Alexander VI., Julius II., and Leo X. were men without interest in religion, concerned with politics and touched by the humanistic spirit of the age, but utterly unable to lead the Church to a stronger religious life or to support those who would so lead it. With Adrian VI. the Spanish type of Reformation reached the papal throne for a brief period ; but Rome was not yet ready for it, and Adrian died, in 1523, a heart broken man, unable to effect the reforms which he saw to be necessary, and baffled by none more com pletely than by the officials of his own court. With Clement VII. (1523-34), Rome again possessed a pope who failed to grasp the significance of the re ligious situation of Europe. Moderate and person ally of excellent repute, with that keen interest in learning, art and politics which marked the Medi- cian house from which he sprang,he greatly aided the The Papacy. 359 German Reformation by his political opposition to Charles V. and his interference in favor of France when the defeat of its armies would have left the emperor free to repress his Protestant subjects. But by reason of Clement VII.'s policy, and in spite of his wishes, the way was markedly prepared for the dominance of a new spirit at Rome. His policy of favor to the French led to the German-Spanish cap ture of the papal city in 1527 and its savage sack. The catastrophe broke the dominance of the easy going, pleasure-loving, artistic Italian humanism over Roman affairs. Rome emerged desolate. An in fluence which had stood for half a century opposed to any strenuous ecclesiastical zeal was greatly weakened, at the very time that the forces of spirit ual reform were beginning to assert themselves on the Italian peninsula. Clement's successor, Paul III. (1534-49), a Far nese by birth, was a man of great diplomatic abilities, of splendor-loving tastes, and devoted to the ad vancement of the interests of his family. Neither in personal life nor in sympathy was he one to whom strenuous religious motives made an appeal. But in Paul III. the Roman see had an occupant of in sight into the needs of the times, and with his acces sion a transformation of the College of Cardinals began. Though he appointed his youthful grand children to this high office, he had been but a short time pope when he bestowed the honor upon emi nent members of the Italian reform party, represent ative of its various shades of opinion— namely, Con tarini, Caraffa, Pole, Fregoso and Sadoleto. With 360 The Reformation. the admission of these men to the papal councils, a positive element of strength was added to the papacy, and thenceforward the appointment of car dinals without moral earnestness or theological learning became an exception of rapidly increasing rarity. Paul saw, too, that a general council was a necessity, however unpalatable to the papacy, and he issued a bull, in 1536, summoning its assembly at Mantua. Some of the difficulties, political and relig ious, which this much-sought council that ultimately gathered effectively at Trent, in 1545, encountered, none the least of them coming from the policy of the pope himself, have already been noted in tracing the story of the German Reformation ; its results will be considered more fully in this chapter. But that a pope was induced to call a general council at all showed that the papacy was waking to the gravity of the situation and the necessity of some reforma tory measures. A similar evidence that Paul III. was reading the signs of the times appeared in his appointment of Caraffa, Contarini, Pole, Aleander and other cardinals, in 1536, as a commission on the betterment of the Church — a commission which pre sented a very plain-spoken report the following year. But though the reformatory forces which Paul III. thus had the wisdom to enlist were in no sense Protestant, there was at first a division among them as to how Protestants should be treated. Caraffa and his friends, including the new order of the Theatines, held that there should be no toleration of heresy. Their view was that of Spain. Contarini and his associates, on the other hand, hoped that A New Papal Policy. 361 by a policy of conciliation in doctrines and practices not involving the papal supremacy and the more vital features of the mediaeval theories of the sacra ments and the Church, the Protestants might be won back. The emperor, Charles V., shared this opinion. But the failure of the union efforts con ducted by Charles, in 1 540 and 1 541 .already narrated, in which Contarini bore so large a share, and Con- tarini's death in 1542, threw the leadership of relig ious Italy completely into Caraffa's hands ; and the victory of his Spanish theories was evidenced by the reorganization, in July, 1542, by Paul III., of the Inquisition under Caraffa's superintendence and on the Spanish model at Rome. Before this engine of uniformity, Italian dissent promptly dis appeared. When the principles of the counter-Reformation so far dominated the action of a pope who had little personal inclination to them, it needed but the coming to the papal throne of one to whom those principles were congenial to make their mastery of the papacy complete. Paul III.'s immediate suc cessor, Julius III. (1550-55), was not a man of force of character ; but at his death, the counter-Refor mation party had grown strong enough in the College of Cardinals to control the election. In Marcellus II. Rome gained a pope of promise and of earnest re formatory spirit, as the counter-Reformation under stood reform. His papacy lasted only twenty-two days ; but he was succeeded by no less redoubtable a champion of a revived, purified and intensified ecclesiasticism than Caraffa himself as Paul IV. 362 The Reformation. (1555-59). Strongly anti-Spanish in politics and defeated in war with Spain, his churchly ideal was, nevertheless, fully that of the Spanish Awakening. He purified the churches, he regulated his court, he compelled the cardinals to preach, and set them an example himself. He did away with many of the financial abuses of the papal administration. He sought the adornment of public worship. He inten sified the methods and increased the powers of the Inquisition. The change was complete. Rome had passed from the humanistic popes, learned, art- loving, worldly, indifferent to religious concerns, to the rule of ecclesiastics who were strenuous sup porters of the counter-Reformation and zealous opponents of Protestantism. The popes who suc ceeded Paul IV. to the end of the Reformation age, whatever their unlikenesses in other respects, had this in common, that they made the interests of the Church — as they understood those interests— their first concern. This change in the character and zeal of the papacy — a change involving no alteration in its doctrines or claims — was the result rather than the cause of the awakening life of the Roman Church. That life had many manifestations, but several are more easily pointed out than others and are of ex ceptional significance. One of the special manifestations of reviving life is to be seen in the renewal of confidence in the ology as a science through a return to that great me diaeval Augustinian, the chiefest of the schoolmen, Thomas Aquinas. For two hundred years before Theology Revived. 363 the Reformation, nominalism had been discrediting the intellectual value of theology. Nominalism had asserted the unprovableness of its main doctrines. It had produced a feeling of distrust of theology, since it was but a poor substitute for the intellec tual confidence of an Augustine or an Aquinas to assert that dogma, though philosophically im probable, must be accepted because taught by churchly authority. That view reduced Christian truth, in the thought of the multitude, simply to the level of the official, legally authorized, system of a great corporation. But the early years of the sixteenth century were witnessing the beginnings of a change. In a true sense the Reformation period was an Augustinian age. Humanism had aided it to become so. The humanistic spirit in clined its disciples, whether Protestant or Catholic, to go back to the sources — that is, at least to the fathers of mediaeval Christianity, if not fully to the New Testament. In the Protestant movement this tendency had its most striking illustration. Luther, Zwingli and Calvin were determined Augustinians. But the same disposition to go back from the un certainties and externalities of the later nominalistic theology to the intellectual confidence and spiritual depth of an earlier period was manifested, though in a very inferior degree, in the Roman Church itself. The return was not so far. It was to Aqui nas rather than to Augustine and Paul. But, in so far as it gained control of thought, it was a restora tion of confidence in theology as a self-respecting science and an emphasis upon the better and 364 The Reformation. more spiritual aspects of mediaeval teaching. Here, though Italy furnished a conspicuous representative, Spain chiefly led the way, because in Spain human ism combined with the older scholasticism in more harmonious relations than elsewhere in Europe. The great expounders of Aquinas, the Italian Car dinal Cajetan — Luther's opponent — and the Span iards, Francisco de Vittoria, of Salamanca, with his pupils, Melchior Cano, of the same university, and Domingo de Soto, of Alcala, gave new life to the Thomistic theology. De Soto and Cano were to influence the Council of Trent, and thus the official creed of Roman Catholicism. Through these men and their pupils the theology of the Roman Church was revived, though their work was largely destined to be of a temporary character and to be displaced, before the seventeenth century had far advanced, by a new nominalism in the probabilism and anti- Augustinianism of the Jesuits. Yet, though tem porary, this Thomistic revival, with its renewal of confidence in mediaeval theology, was a mighty in tellectual aid to the counter-Reformation. These new expounders of Aquinas were Domini cans, yet it would be too much to affirm that the Dominican order as a whole shared this revived Thomistic spirit. That order had long passed its prime. Its chief weight was that of inertia, and of opposition to novelty, as exemplified in its hostility to Reuchlin. But, in reckoning the forces which stayed Protestantism, the Dominican order as a whole must be taken into account. It furnished few recruits for Protestantism ; it supplied many of the Theology Revived. 365 most determined of Protestantism's early opponents. In control of instruction in most of the universities of Europe, eager to suppress heresy and hearty in its support of the Inquisition, it stood, especially outside of Germany, as a great block in the path of Protestant reform. But neither renewed confidence in theology nor the conservative forces of such an order as that of St. Dominic would have availed to check the tide of Protestant advance. Far more important was the revival of piety in the Roman Church. That revival took the forms characteristic of the Roman conception of Christianity. It found expression largely in monastic organizations, it viewed the submission of the individual will to the judgment of the Church as the highest Christian duty, its concep tion of the way of salvation was the external, cor porate, sacramental view of the middle ages, it regarded " heretics " with abhorrence; but its in creased spirituality, zeal and power cannot be denied. The ascetic ideal has always appealed to the Latin races, and one characteristic trait of the Roman re vival of religion is to be seen in new congregations and in the modification of existing orders. The establishment of the Theatines, in 1524, to secure the betterment of the clergy of Italy and to oppose religious innovators, has already been described. But they were far from alone. The Theatines were largely from the upper classes and constituted the aristocracy of the Italian counter-Reformation. Somewhat similar in aim, but more democratic in character, were the Barnabites, founded at Milan by o 66 The Reformation. Antonio Maria Zaccaria (1502-39), in 1530, to de velop the religious life of the people by preaching and more frequent administration of the sacraments. Far less significant intellectually, but not without influence on the lower classes by reason of devotion to preaching, were the Capuchins, a subdivision of the old Franciscan order effected by Matteo Bassi in 1528. Originating in a question regarding mo nastic garb, and prevailingly marked by ignorance, the Capuchin movement, which rose to the dignity of a separate monastic order in 1619, has been far removed from all Protestant conceptions of the Christian life, yet it represents a real element in the counter-Reformation. A figure of much greater at tractiveness than that of Bassi is Filippo de Neri (1515-95), well known by reason of his exemplifica tion of the Roman ideal of saintliness, his charity, his cheerful spirit, and his labors in Rome itself, re sulting in the organization of the Society of the Holy Trinity, in 1548, to aid pilgrims to Rome, and of the far more important Congregation of the Oratory, which gained papal sanction in 1574 — an association of varied activity and including many men of learn- ing, to which the initiation of the musical oratorio was due. An effective work among women was begun when the Ursulines were founded at Brescia by Angela Merici (1470-1540) in 1535. Outside of Italy, also, Catholic piety found char acteristic expression in organization ; and here it often took on a mystical form, akin to that of the middle ages. In Spain, and to a less extent and at a later period in France, this mystic tendency de- Awakened Spiritual Life. 367 veloped, aiming to realize the immediate union of the human soul with God, by self-abnegation, utter submission of thought and will, inward prayers, con templation and ecstasy. Among its leading spirits may be mentioned Pedro of Alcantara (1499-1562), the founder of one of the strictest of Spanish congre gations ; Teresa de Jesus, of Avila (1515-82), the reformer of the Carmelites and a mystical writer whose "Interior Castle " enjoyed much popularity ; Juan de la Cruz (John of the Cross, ?-i592), Teresa's friend and fellow-reformer ; and Juan Ciudad, known as John of God (1495-15 50), a Portuguese disciple of Juan de la Cruz and founder of the beneficent Order of the Brothers of Charity. A similar mysti cal tendency in France was represented by Francois de Sales (1 567-1622), the restorer of Romanism in Chablais and the Pays de Gex, whose converts from Protestantism are alleged to have numbered seventy- two thousand ; and by his disciple, Jeanne Frangoise Fremiot de Chantal (1 572-1641), the founder of the Nuns of the Visitation. By these leaders, only a part of whom have been named, the spiritual zeal of the Roman Church was stimulated, their books were read, their influence touched wide circles, and their devotion, self- abnegation, enthusiasm, churchly zeal, intolerance of "heresy," and emphasis on the characteristic Roman doctrines and usages gave to Catholic piety much of the form in which it is familiar to the modern world. In turn, the Roman Church has ex pressed its appreciation of them by enrolling very many of them in the catalogue of its saints. 368 The Reformation. But, great as was the work of those just described, it was far surpassed by that of the most character istic leader of the counter-Reformation — a leader whom papal authority has declared to have been raised up by God to combat Luther — Ignatius Loyola, the founder of the Society of Jesus. In him the Roman opposition to Protestantism pos sessed not only its most effective but its most typi cal champion. Strenuous in his hostility to the abuses of his time, as earnest Catholics counted abuses, dominated by a missionary zeal that gives him high rank among those who have sought to widen the bounds of Christendom, his work, never theless, emphasized and intensified those aspects of the Roman conception of religion with which Protestantism has least sympathy, and the tendency which he fostered is that which most widened the cleft between the parties into which the ancient, Church was rent. A true son of Spain, in spirit as well as in race, though differing in some things from the reformers of the early Spanish Awakening, as in his dependence on the papacy, and long looked upon with suspicion in the land of his birth, he was the consummate product of that movement which began with Ferdinand, Isabella and Ximenes. But his sig nificance was as wide as Christendom, and the Society which he founded has been the most potent organ ization in the Roman communion from his day to the present, because it most fully embodied the ideals which the logic of Roman development in volved. It was remarked, in speaking of Luther, that though to the German Protestant a national Ignatius Loyola. 369 hero, he was so of his race as to be largely an enigma or an object of aversion to the Spaniard or Italian. The same thing is true in reverse order of Loyola. So completely was he the son of Spain and of the Roman Church that a German or Anglo-Saxon Protestant enters with difficulty into his range of thought, appreciates him in his environment only by effort, and scarcely comprehends the feelings with which a Spaniard or an Italian regards his character. Yet his greatness as a mover of men and a founder of institutions is evident. Though his work cannot place him on an equality with Luther — the genius of the German was original and creative of the new, that of the Spaniard was conservative and organiz ing of the old — his is one of the mighty figures of the Reformation age. Inigo Lopez de Recalde, a younger son of the northern Spanish noble family of Loyola, was born in the castle from which the family took its name, in the Biscayan province of Guipuzcoa, probably in 1491. Brought up as a page at the court of King Ferdi nand like other young nobles, he soon showed a capacity to lead men as a soldier. In one of the earliest battles of the long contest between Charles V. and Francis I. for the mastery of Europe, it fell to his lot to be the youngest, but the most deter mined, of the officers to whom the defence of Pam- peluna against an overwhelming French force was entrusted. A severe wound in the leg, that left him permanently a cripple, brought his bright prospects of soldierly distinction to a sudden end. Unwill ing to abandon a life that seemed so attractive to 3 70 The Reformation. his masterful nature, he twice had the wounded leg broken in the hope that its bones might reknit more successfully, only to endure disappointment, pain and prolonged invalidism. Strongly imaginative and adventure-loving, endued with the romantic spirit of knighthood, which still survived in Spain, his favor ite literature thus far had been stories of knightly adventure. In his illness he now read with eager ness a harmony of the Gospels and a collection of the lives of the saints. The thought came to him, why might he not become a saint to whom men pray, like Dominic or Francis ? All his adventurous spirit was called forth to new paths. As soon as able to leave his bed, in true knightly fashion, he conse crated himself to the service of the Virgin, and laid the weapons of his former warfare on her altar at Monserrat. Then followed a period of severe ascetic self-denial in the Dominican monastery at Manresa — a time of spiritual struggle for Ignatius, who now first turned his thoughts inward and questioned his purposes, his character, his Christian faith. He fasted, he scourged himself, he prayed, but his burdening sense of sinfulness remained, till, at last, suddenly, and as he believed by divine grace, he resolved to cast his past behind him and bring it no more to rec ollection even in prayer before God. He was con vinced that disquieting thoughts, such as he had endured, were the work of evil spirits, whom he must combat ; and so, master of his own feelings, he took the next great step in his spiritual development — a step which marks his superiority in practical regula- Ignatius Loyola. 371 tion of life to the mystics, to whom he was always so near akin by his spirit and his imagination — he received or rejected the visions which his fancy brought him, as God-sent truth or devilish tempta tion, according as they gave peace or trouble to his soul. He mastered his own thoughts and feelings. To him it seemed that God revealed the mystery of Christ's person, the secret of the Trinity, the plan of the world, in visions of the Spirit. On these he strengthened his faith. But he rejected visions of equal clearness as temptations of evil if they failed when tried by his test. The most remarkable fruit of this spiritual self-mastery, which Ignatius early acquired, is his Exercitia Spiritualia — an attempt to reduce the spiritual discipline of the soul to a sys tem, as the military training of the soldier is effected by the manual-of-arms. The soldier spirit mani fested itself here as throughout Ignatius's work. For four weeks, and under the guidance of a spir itual master-at-arms, to whom every emotion of the soul is to be made known, Ignatius would have his disciple exercise the spirit by prayer and self-exam ination and by continuous and intent meditation on definite aspects of sin, of the divine nature, of Christ's life and passion, of this world as a battle ground between the armies of Christ and of Satan, of future rewards and punishments, not merely in order that the facts of Christianity should become vital to the imagination, but that active virtues, such as obedience, humility and love, should become the natural garments of the soul. To this ingenious effort to create a definite system of spiritual training 372 The Reformation. the Jesuit order has owed much, and its practice is still obligatory on every member. Something Ig natius drew, indeed, from older treatises of mystics like Thomas a Kempis, or Garcia Cisnero of Man resa, but his whole handling was profoundly orig inal. It met the desire characteristic of humanism for individual self-development, yet it met it in a way to subjugate the disciple to the Church. From the first the Exercitia appealed more to the educated than to the ignorant ; to the man who has made some progress in self-knowledge rather than to the creature of passion. Ignatius's active temperament would not long content itself with the quiet of Manresa. In 1523, begging his way, he journeyed to Jerusalem, in the spirit of a mediaeval pilgrim, but with a missionary zeal also which bade him hope to make that holy city the scene of labors for the conversion of unbe lievers. The Franciscans there in control viewed his plans with disfavor and forced him to return to Spain. Convinced that if he was to influence men of culture he must himself become a man of learn ing, he entered a boys' class in the rudiments of Latin at Barcelona. Two years later he began the study of philosophy and theology at Alcala, and pursued them further at Salamanca. But he was always the man of action, and in all these places of his sojourn, Ignatius won disciples ; yet his activity drew upon him the suspicions of the Spanish eccle siastical authorities, he was repeatedly cast into the bishop's prison at Alcala, and again at Salamanca, as an alumbrado — that is, a heretic claiming mystj- Ignatius Loyola. 373 cal illumination — and examined as to his ortho doxy, though happily without quite coming into the clutches of the royal inquisitors. It throws an illu minating light on the repressive and inevitably deadening effect of the anti-heretical zeal of Spain that so eminent a son of the Roman Church should so nearly have perished at the hands of its would-be defenders. Though this persecution in no way broke Ignatius's spirit, it cost him all but a few women of his Spanish following, and led him to transfer the scene of his studies, in 1528, to Paris. In much of Spain he was long without special recognition, and such leaders of the Spanish Awakening as Melchior Cano always looked upon him with aversion. Very important years were those of Ignatius's student life at Paris. They witnessed the growing strife between rising humanism and the old scholas ticism that yet dominated the university. In them fell Cop's daring address and Calvin's flight. They beheld the increasing stringency of the government against Protestant sympathizers, the death of Ber quin, and the posting of the placards. It was charac teristic of Ignatius, however, that he took no public part in any of the discussions of these eventful years. But he labored assiduously and by every means in his power to win disciples among his fellow- students. Many came in some measure under his influence, but his intimate disciples were few — Pierre Favre, a Savoyard of humble birth ; Francisco de Xavier, an ambitious noble sprung from the most eminent family in Navarre; Diego Lainez, a brilliant, learned, persuasive Spanish student who had come to 374 The Reformation. Paris from Alcala ; Alonso Salmeron, the ablest preacher and the most learned theologian of the little company; with them Nicolo Bobadilla, a Span iard ; Simon Rodriguez, a Portuguese, and, a little later, Claude Jay of Geneva, of diplomatic gifts ; Pascal Brou6t, a Netherlander of moderate talents, and Jean Codure, a Frenchman, soon to be removed by death. With the six first-named of these disci ples, Ignatius entered into common vows in the Church of St. Mary on Montmartre, then just out of Paris, on August 15, 1534; the associates pledging themselves to engage in missionary labors in Pales tine, or, should that prove impossible, wherever the pope should direct. It was not yet an order that they planned, though that it was soon to become. It was a student association for missionary effort; but its animating impulses were the presence and the ideas of Ignatius. From Paris the movement, in this early and comparatively free form, was carried speedily to the universities of Louvain and Cologne. Reasons of health sent Ignatius to his Spanish home in 1535, but the next year he and his Parisian associates met at Venice, intent on carrying into action their purpose of going to the Holy Land. Here they won the favor of Contarini, and the ill- will of Caraffa, who, perhaps, saw in them a danger to his Theatines. At Easter, 1537, they appeared before Paul III., in Rome, and won his approval for their plans ; but these proved impossible of fulfil ment by reason of war between Venice and the Turks, and the companions devoted themselves to street preaching in the cities of northern Italy. A The Society of Jesus. 375 year later, the mission to Palestine being evidently beyond their power, Ignatius, Faber and Lainez again sought the pope. Their thought had devel oped. They would now gain papal approval for their organization as an association to labor where the pope should see fit to appoint for the spread of the Roman faith; and now Ignatius bethought himself of a fitting name. Italy had seen many military companies in the service of worldly princes — his would be the Societas fesu, the military Company of Jesus, for a higher warfare ; but, like them, as far as possible soldierly in its underlying conceptions. Against the nick name, Jesuits, which speedily became its popular designation, the Society protested in vain. Here at Rome Ignatius encountered difficulties that taxed all his skill. The charges of unorthodoxy that had been previously brought against him were repeated. The Roman curia was averse to the establishment of any new orders. But at last opposition was overcome, largely through the powerful impress of Ignatius's personality on Pope Paul III., and a bull of Septem ber 27, 1540, gave formal sanction to the Jesuit order, though limiting its membership to sixty — a requirement that was three years later abandoned. At its head was a "general ;" and none but Ignatius could be thought of for that office at the first election in 1 541. During this period of waiting, the companions had begun to sketch the outline of their constitu tion; but though its essential features were fashioned during the lifetime of Ignatius, it was only gradu ally completed. To Ignatius, however, its pecu. 376 l he Reformation. liarities were due. In his view, the order was no monastic association of those seeking salvation by separation from the world, but a company of priests bound together by love and by desire to labor for their fellow-men. Few were fitted for its member ship, Ignatius believed ; and hence great care was to be exercised in selecting its recruits, and the order itself could at any time expel any unsuitable com panion. By the time that Ignatius had obtained the authorization of the order from Paul III,, he had come to feel that a further bond than love for one's fellow-men was needful to unite the company as a whole, and that he found in the military con ception of obedience. As in a regiment of soldiers, so in the Company of Jesus each must make his su perior's will his own, and he must do so willingly and cheerfully. Obedience is the first of duties; and the commands of the superior must be regarded as those of Christ. And, as with the well-drilled soldier a prolonged exercise in arms is necessary before he is fit for battle, so Ignatius believed a long spiritual training essential to readiness for spiritual struggle. As speedily developed, entrance on the Jesuit order implied a two years' novitiate disciplined by the Exercitia Spiritualia, and by the practice of humility and obedience. Then followed reception into the order by the assumption of the three vows — obedience, poverty, chastity. Some so received remained at this grade as lay associates ; but those who had the priesthood in view, as was the original intention regarding all and continued true regarding most of those admitted to member- The Society of Jesus. 377 ship, now began a long period of study as "ap proved scholars ' ' of the classics in a college of the order. Then, after a similar course of theologic training, they received ordination and were ad mitted "coadjutors." From these "coadjutors" a very few became in the strictest sense members of the Company, by a fourth vow — that of obedience to the pope in missionary service among heathen or heretics. Training and selection, these were the principles impressed upon the order. In a true sense, it resembled an army with its varied ranks of officers and its privates. Yet, though military in conception, its system made the order of the Jesuits something widely different from an uncontrolled despotism. At its head stood a "general," to whom implicit obedience was due ; but he was elected for life by the "general congregation," which could depose him in necessity ; and he had a confessor, an "admonitor," and several assistants placed by his side, as in some sense a cabinet. By this cabinet the general congregation could be assembled. Each large administrative subdivision, as a country, was under the superintendence of a "provincial," appointed by the general, who also named the heads of the houses and schools. And all were bound together and made known to the general and his assistants by a constant series of letters and reports involving an elaborate system of mutual surveillance, and enabling the general to keep track of the inner workings of the order and to know the character of its members. Activity and many-sidedness were impressed upon the order by 378 The Reformation. the founder. Its members should be free for any fitting service ; hence they had no lengthy daily religious duties, such as take a large portion of the time of monks. They should be free to enter any land ; hence they had no prescribed costume. Any unobtrusive garb, Ignatius thought fitting ; but it must be neat — "he who loves poverty need not love dirt," was Ignatius's characteristic dictum. In general, however, the order has modelled its costume on that of the Spanish priesthood. It was, indeed, a marvellous instrument that Ignatius fashioned — a society knit together by few of the ties of common dress, occupation and residence, by which the older orders were joined ; a society as far as possible international in character ; a society which found its union in likeness of spirit and de votion to a common cause. And the means by which he sought to accomplish this end were no less remarkable. In an age dominated by individualism, Ignatius founded a society in which large develop ment of the individual spiritually, intellectually and physically was sought, in which room was found for the exercise of the most varied and highly trained talents ; but in which all this high-wrought indi vidualism was made subservient by an obedience which saw in the will of the superior the ultimate law. It was the most cunningly devised instrument that the human brain ever conceived — forged for a single purpose from polished and independent ele ments. It appealed to two of the strongest motives that men can feel — labor for others and for self- development in the service of God; but it conditioned The Society of Jesus. 379 its answer to this appeal on a self-surrender and an obedience that, while leaving room for a high de gree of individuality, abdicates the highest exercises of the individual judgment and will. Ignatius's desire that his Society should — to use his favorite Pauline quotation — be " made all things to all men," appeared in his efforts in Rome itself, begun even before the formal establishment of the order, but developed chiefly after his election to the generalship, and involving no less various labors than missions to the Jews of the Ghetto, the care of orphans, the limitation of beggars, the reform of women of evil life, the regeneration of nunneries, improvement in the pawnbroking system, establish ment of schools, beside the more usual work of preaching. But the activity of the order flowed out from Rome speedily over all Europe and beyond the bounds of Christendom. Of its missions to the heathen there will be occasion to speak later in this chapter. By 1542, its preachers were laboring in northern Italy, aiding that intensifying Roman poli cy illustrated in the reorganization of the Roman Inquisition in that year. Lainez was preaching at Venice, Favre at Parma and Piacenza, Brouet at Foligno. Soon they had foot in Florence, Genoa, Bologna and Naples. In Venice and Florence, es pecially, they encountered much opposition. They were viewed as the advanced guard of a papacy of whose pretensions local independence was not a little jealous; but they won their way. Even earlier, 1540, Ignatius's cousin, Araoz, was laboring for the order in Spain, and reached Madrid as its 380 The Reformation. advocate in 1542. Here it was vigorously attacked with the charge of affinity to the alumbrados which had earlier been urged against Ignatius ; but on the conversion, in 1546, of Duke Francisco Borgia of Gandia, the chief noble of Aragon and viceroy of Catalonia, destined to be Ignatius's second suc cessor in the generalship, the order won a position from which it could not be dislodged. By Rodri- guez, aided by the fame and influence of Xavier, who went to India under the auspices of the king, Portugal was won for the Jesuits in 1541 and 1542. In France, where the Society had received its first organization, it made its way more slowly. Allowed by Henry II. to establish a college at Paris in 1550, it was formally condemned by the Sorbonne four years later ; but it won the powerful support of the Guise family and gained a sure footing by 1561. The same period saw its permanent establishment in the Netherlands. Even in regions of prevail ingly Roman sympathies it had to fight its way ; but everywhere it showed itself the foremost sup porter of the papacy. And nowhere was its suc cess more remarkable than in Germany. Foreign to that land in speech and thought, unable at first to send a German member thither, its first repre sentative was Pierre Favre in 1540, whom Le Jay and Bobadilla speedily followed. But, in the pov erty of contemporary German Catholicism in effi cient defenders, the friends of Rome grasped eagerly for the aid of the Society of Jesus. In its first German conquest, the Hollander, Peter Kanis of Nimwegen (Canisius, 1 521-1597), whom Favre won, Work of the Society. 38 1 in 1543, while Kanis was a student at Cologne, the order gained not merely a powerful preacher and the author of the most popular of Catholic catechisms that originated on German soil (1554 and 1566), but a strenuous opponent of Protestantism who taught in the universities at Ingolstadt (1549) and Vienna (1552), labored in Prague (1555) and Poland (1558), and proved a mighty force in encouraging Roman sympathizers and checking the further progress of Lutheranism. Bavaria, under Duke Wilhelm IV., welcomed the Jesuits in 1549; Austria, under Fer dinand, gave them place in 1 551, and Bohemia in 1555- This manifold activity of the Jesuit order was made possible by its rapid growth. Though Igna tius's preference was always for quality rather than numbers in its membership, and though only thirty- five were living who had taken the fourth vow which admitted them to the inner circle, when the first general closed his eventful life at Rome on July 31, 1556, the order counted more than a thousand mem bers, settled in a hundred places. Ignatius's work was carried on, 1557 to 1565, by the second general, Diego Lainez (1512-65), and, indeed, further devel oped in the perfection of its constitution and the widening of its educational work. The third gen eral, who ruled from 1565 to 1572, was that eminent trophy of the early activity of the Society in Spain, Francisco Borgia, under whom the political activity of the order was markedly emphasized. Everard Mercurian, general from 1572 to 1581, was a man of meagre force compared with his great predeces- 382 The Reformation. o sors ; but under the Neapolitan, Claudio Acquaviva, from 1581 to 1615, the order came again under the direction of a powerful personality. But half a century of growth and power had disposed it to an interference in politics which led to much opposition even by Catholic sovereigns. Its moral teachings had begun to be widely questioned ; and disputes had arisen in the order itself. From the death of Acquaviva it suffered a decline ; but it is, in spite of opposition, criticism, and temporary suppression, to the present day, the strongest organization in the Roman Church. Many causes may be assigned for its great success. It was an order which, in its early years at least, appealed primarily to men of intellect and position. It enlisted in its service some of the ablest of the sons of the Roman Church. Its work was one which was eminently adapted to the times. Of the vari ous elements by which that work was characterized, that of preaching was historically the first. Ignatius, Lainez, Salmeron, Xavier, were all preachers of force. And they understood the art of conveying their views while avoiding direct controversy in the pulpit. Not only did the Jesuit preaching empha size obedience to the Roman see, it laid weight on those features of Roman teaching and practice which are most opposed to Protestantism. The adoration of the Virgin was strongly enforced. Ignatius him self went so far in this worship as to affirm it to be one of the blessings of the Supper that in partaking of it he received not merely the flesh of Christ, but that of His mother. A second characteristic of the Characteristics of the Order. 383 work of the Jesuits was its insistence on a far more frequent participation in the Supper than was cus tomary in the early part of the sixteenth century. To Ignatius's thinking, such participation at least once a month, and if possible weekly, was the prime means of salvation. It need hardly be pointed out how this view tended to strengthen the conception of the Church as a corporation endowed with mirac ulous and in themselves life-giving sacraments which has always been cherished in the Roman com munion. But participation in the Supper implied frequent confession, and the Society made this requirement one of its main avenues to popular influence. The early part of the Reformation era saw confession largely discredited. Protestants rejected it ; the unreformed Roman clergy and monks were often not of such character as to invite the confidence which confession implies. The Jesuits undertook to re vive and extend the use of the confessional with notable success. For this work papal privileges gave the order special powers to grant absolution in cases ordinarily reserved for the action of higher authorities than those of simple priests. But this function which brought the Jesuit into contact with the secret thoughts and feelings of the people among whom he labored, and lent to him, in turn, much of his influence, proved the doorway to what has seemed to many in the Roman communion, as well as out of it, a debasement of moral values. It was not merely the Jesuit desire to be " all things to all men" — that is, so to meet the thoughts and feel. 384 The Reformation. ings of those among whom they labored as to instil their view of religion — that led to this result. The Jesuit conception of sin was superficial. It will be remembered that Ignatius freed himself from his overwhelming sense of sinfulness, not, as Luther did, by trust in an external promise, as he believed, of absolute divine authority written in God's Word, but by a resolution to put the recollection of the past behind him as a temptation of evil. The Jesuit practice tended to the development of a system of casuistry — that is, to the creation of an elaborate standard of minimum requirements for the reception of an effective absolution. And several elements combined to render this casuistry unstrenuous. One was the revival and extension of mediaeval proba- bilism — the view that a man is justified in a particu lar course of action if he can get the approval of some recognized authority for it, even though his own judgment may not surely be convinced of its rightfulness. In its classic Jesuit form, it was not developed till more than forty years after the death of Ignatius, by Gabriel Vasquez and Antonio Es cobar, whose work excited the hostility of the famous French Jansenist, Blaise Pascal, in 1656; but its germs are to be seen in the teachings of Ignatius himself. There can be no doubt that, especially in dealing with those whose political influence it was desirable to secure, this doctrine was a real source of abuse. A second element was the Jesuit emphasis on intention. The phrase in which this principle is often stated, "the end justifies the means," seems not to have been used by any Jesuit of authority, Characteristics of the Order. 385 though utterances of a somewhat similar but prob ably not so sweeping import may be found in their writings. But to the soldier-spirit the result is more important than the method of its attainment ; and the distinction between "deadly" and "venial" sins which Ignatius drew aided in an overvaluation of intention at the expense of its associated acts. To his thinking, the sin became "deadly" when the will consents. This conception had in it the germ of a third element developed by the theologians of the order after the time of Ignatius, that that only is fully sin, in the theological sense, which is done with a clear consciousness of its sinful character and with deliberate concurrence of the will. No doubt the more spiritually-minded members of the Society opposed the grosser forms in which these principles were applied, especially after their full development in the seventeenth century. But with many Jesuits, to say the least, mental reservation came to be justi fied, so that a man was not held bound to give a correct impression even on oath ; the fear of pun ishment, as in the later middle ages, was regarded as sufficient for effective repentance ; and religion adapted in many ways to the customs of a corrupt society. The political activity of the Jesuit order was the natural outgrowth of its principles and position, though hardly included in its original intention. A body of men, international in membership, every where seeking to win influence over the most emi nent in civil and religious life, bound together by strict obedience to generals who, in the cases of 386 The Reformation. Ignatius, Lainez and Borgia, at least, were of sur passing political gifts, and reporting to the gen eral the minutest affairs of the lands in which its members were stationed, could not but become po litical. No wonder that the Jesuits proved the chief agents in winning back many of the princes of Ger many to the Roman obedience, that they were the terror of such sovereigns as Elizabeth of England, or that the governments even of the most Catholic lands came to look upon their activity with dread. Comparable only with their successful use of the confessional and of political influence and intrigue to advance the interests of the Roman Church was their employment of education. This, like their political activity, was not part of the original purpose of the order, save as included perhaps in its general design of labor for others among various ways in that of religious teaching. But the clear insight of Ignatius speedily perceived the advantages to be derived from a control of education in a much larger sense. At first he simply aimed to gather the stu dents of Jesuit sympathies at a particular university together in a " college," not for special instruction, but for the development together of a common spiritual life. Of these colleges, the first was that established, in 1542, at Coimbra, in Portugal. But, in 1547, that eminent Spanish convert, Duke Fran cisco Borgia, put his little university at Gandia as a whole into the hands of the Jesuits. Messina, in Sicily, speedily thereafter gave its university into Jesuit control. More important yet was the found ing by Ignatius, in 1550, of the Collegium Romanum Jesuit Education. 387 at Rome for the training of Jesuits and of students unconnected with the order ; and, two years there after, of the Collegium Germanicum in the same city, with special reference to preparation for labor in Protestant lands. This was but the beginning of a great educational activity, the Jesuits obtaining a foothold in existing educational foundations or or ganizing new schools wherever their labors ex tended. These schools were not popular in the sense of attempting to educate the people as a whole — for that the Jesuits had less interest — but they made a powerful appeal to the well-to-do and the noble classes, and the fame of their instruction soon drew to them many who were thereby led into the Roman fold. For this end, the course of in struction was admirably planned. As Ignatius availed himself of the individualism of his age, and yet made it subservient to a single purpose in his Society at large, so in the schools the Jesuits took into service the admired humanistic culture of the Renascence, and yet held it in absolute obedience to the Church. Latin and Greek were studied, dis putations and debates, within strict bounds, gave training in public speech, and the advanced student passed on to Aristotle, and thence to scholastic theology. Throughout the course a mild but posi tive and rigid superintendence was exercised, while the ambition of the student was stimulated by com petition, and his conduct regulated by the watch, or rather espionage, which each was encouraged to keep on his associates. But of all the labors of the Society of Jesus, that 388 The Reformation. in the field of foreign missions best illustrated Ig natius's original intention and displayed its most winsome features. The work of that Society was not, indeed, the first or the only conspicuous effort of the Roman Church to extend the borders of Christendom during the Reformation age. To a large degree, foreign missions during this period were a monopoly of the Roman communion. The reasons are obvious. Till the rise of the sea-power of Holland and of England, the Catholic sovereigns of Spain, Portugal and Italy were the only rulers in contact with un-Christian nations among whom mis sions might be hopefully undertaken. Luther never had the opportunity to promote missions ; he never felt their claim. Calvin, on a single occasion, that of the sending of Villegaignon's French colony to Brazil in 1555 and 1556, was given — and improved— an occasion to show his interest in this aspect of the advancing kingdom of God. But, till the rise of English and Dutch colonies at the beginning of the seventeenth century opened the way and awakened the desire for Protestant missions, the feeling was widespread in Protestant circles that since the days of the Apostles' ministry no missionary obligation lay upon the Church. For the Roman Church, on the other hand, ac cess to the heathen was easy ; and from the begin ning of the great discoveries, missionary work was undertaken. Little as their lives oftentimes con formed to the Gospel, a missionary desire to increase the domain of the Church was undeniably one of the motives that spurred on the Spanish and Por- Missions. 389 tuguese discoverers and conquerors. In their wake missionaries of the monastic orders, chiefly Francis cans and Dominicans, speedily followed ; and, in spite of the cruelties practised on the natives of the New World by its new masters, they gathered many converts. By 1535, the Franciscans alone claimed twelve hundred thousand. The work was inevitably superficial ; but a recollection of the life and character of such a man as the Dominican mis sionary, Bartolom6 de las Casas (1474-1566), shows the devotion and Christian zeal by which the nobler leaders in its prosecution were animated. To the labors of explorers, governors and missionaries of the Roman Church, the Christianity that now exists in all of South and Central America, and in a con siderable portion of North America, is well-nigh wholly due. The Portuguese and Spanish settle ments in the Orient, also, were accompanied by the erection of churches and the exercise of some mis sionary activity from their beginning. The story of Jesuit missions begins with the labors of the most famous of all Roman missionaries of the Reformation age, Ignatius's early disciple and com panion, Francisco de Xavier (1506-52). At the re quest of John III. of Portugal, this gifted nobleman was appointed to the work in the East by Ignatius in 1540; and, in May, 1542, he reached the first scene of his missionary labors — the Indian west-coast city of Goa, the chief seat of the Portuguese in the Orient. Between that arrival and his death, in a fisherman's hut, on the coast of China near Canton, a few months more than ten years intervened. They were years 390 The Reformation. of marvellous activity. He labored for the corrupt ed, yet nominally Christian, population of Goa, he taught the jjearl-fishers of extreme southern India, he preached in Tinnevelli and in Malacca, he tried to bring the Nestorian Thomas Christians of the Mala bar coast into communion with Rome. He baptized great multitudes. He founded, in 1542, a college at Goa to facilitate the training of Europeans and natives for mission work. In 1549, he entered Japan and labored with some success in its southern prov inces. At his death he was just on the point of beginning a mission in China. It is evident from this mere recital that the work must have been superficial. Not even Xavier's amazing facility in the acquisition of foreign tongues which made him master of twelve languages at the time of his death, nor his powers of observation of strange peoples and insight into subjects as remote from missionary labor as trade and pecuniary exchange, nor his zeal in seizing every opportunity for the propagation of his faith, could render it other than superficial. But Xavier's influence and the inspiration of his exam ple were of great and abiding worth ; and his keen- eyed reconnaissance of the field and disposition of forces for its conquest had some permanent value. In India his work continued. In Japarr the door remained open, and Christianity made large progress till arrested by the fearful persecutions of the first half of the seventeenth century. China, which Xavier had sought to enter, was reached by Matteo Ricci in 1583, and a work which appeared to be full of promise begun. But in all the Orient the Jesuit Missions. 391 willingness to mingle in politics made trouble — no tably in Japan — and in China an over-readiness to be "all things to all men " led to concessions to Chinese ancestor-worship which roused the hostility of the Franciscans and Dominicans when they entered the same field in the seventeenth century. These causes, which were also manifest in India, robbed Catholic missions in the Orient of much of their anticipated success. The New World was early the scene, also, of Jesuit labors. Charles V. had scant welcome for them on Spanish soil, and Philip II. was never warmly their friend ; but in the Portuguese territory of Brazil they were cordially received in 1549. Spanish reluctance soon vanished, and in the Span ish territory of Paraguay they conducted their most remarkable mission — the erection, in the early part of the seventeenth century, of a state in which the natives should be completely under their guidance and from which hostile influences should be ex cluded. This politico-religious experiment ended with the expulsion of the Jesuits from the region in 1768. In North America, also, missions were con ducted by many religious orders, of whom the Fran ciscans in the extreme West and the Jesuits in Canada were the most conspicuous. No more heroic page of missionary endeavor is to be found in the story of Christian missions than that written by the French Jesuits of Canada in the seventeenth cen tury. Friction between different orders working in ' the same field and a desire for better training and organization led Gregory XV., in 1622, to place all the missions of the Roman Church under the super- 392 The Reformation. vision of a board at Rome — the Congregatio de Prop. aganda Fide. To turn from the work of these men of action to the results of an ecclesiastical council, in an enumera tion of the principal forces of the counter-Reforma tion, is to enter what might appear a relatively un important field ; but there can be no doubt that among the potent influences of reviving Catholicism the Council of Trent deserves high rank. The thought of a general council as a means of healing the evils of Christendom was entertained by all conservative reform parties in the first quarter of the sixteenth century. Luther appealed to such a council in 1518, the German Reichstag repeatedly urged it, Charles V. looked upon it as the most hopeful of all agencies for permanent reform. But, as the Reformation developed, two forces appeared strongly antagonistic to it — the Protestants, because they had come to disbelieve that infallibility which the middle ages had credited to councils, and saw that in any council constituted as were those of the fifteenth century they would form a hopeless minor ity ; and the papacy, because it feared a limitation of its powers. On the other hand, the ecclesiastical and civil representatives of the Spanish Awakening strongly favored it, and found their leader in Charles V. So it came about that imperial politics were centred on securing its meeting, that the ¦pope was at last persuaded of its necessity, that Paul III. called it to meet at Mantua in 1537, that it was again summoned to assemble at Trent in 1542, and met in that most Italian of the towns of the Council of Trent. 393 empire at last for effective work in December, 1545. From the first, two opinions were held as to its functions — that of the emperor, who wished the council to begin with reforms, and be free to make such moderate doctrinal concessions as might be needed to unite the Protestants to the older com munion after his politics and arms had forced them to recognize the council as a fitting arbiter, and that of the pope, who wished the council simply to define Catholic doctrine against Protestant inno vations. In the end, the pope's wishes were those gratified. The emperor's hopes were shattered by the uprising of the German Protestants under Moritz in 1552. And this conflict of policy, as well as the wars between France and the Habsburg monarchs, gave to the council a checkered history. Of its sessions, eight are reckoned as held in Trent, from December, 1545, to March, 1547; the next two in Bologna, whither the pope partially succeeded in transferring the council, in April and June, 1547; then, after interruption, six sessions more in Trent, from May, 1551, to April, 1552; and at last, after nearly ten years of waiting, nine sessions more at Trent between January, 1562, and December, 1563, when the council ended its work. In its membership the papal party was predomi nant from the first. Neither France nor Germany was numerously represented. Spain had much in fluence. But nearly or quite two-thirds of the coun cil were Italians. A decision favoring any Prot estant doctrine was therefore not to be anticipated. In its earlier sessions the doctrinal influence of the 394 The Reformation. great Spanish Dominican theologians, who had re vived the system of Aquinas, Cano and De Soto, was strongly felt, and gave to the results reached much more of an Augustinian flavor than they would have possessed had they been formulated half a cen tury before. But the Jesuits, represented chiefly by two Spanish members of Ignatius's original student association, which was the germ of the order — Lainez and Salmeron — won increasing influence as the council went on ; and that influence was strongly papal, opposed to every concession that might seem to conciliate Protestantism, and, as far as its doc trinal tendencies went, favorable to semi-Pelagian rather than to Augustinian views. Both Lainez and Salmeron went to Trent as theological advisers of the papal legates. To them in large measure a sharper emphasis of the points wherein Romanism differs from Protestantism was due — as when Lainez repressed any concessions to the doctrine of justifi cation by faith alone while still only a theological adviser ; or fought the allowance of the cup to the laity, which Emperor Ferdinand desired, and op posed the even more important contention of his Spanish fellow-countrymen that bishops possess their administrative authority immediately from God and not through delegation by the pope, when at the later sessions of the council in the high posi tion of general of his order. The main result of the Council of Trent was the formulation of Roman doctrine in a creed strenu ously opposed to the characteristic positions of Prot estantism, and presenting a compact statement of Tridentine Theology. 395 the theological system which the middle ages had wrought out, while avoiding many of the disputed questions which rival schools of mediaeval theo logians had debated. In opposition to Protestant ism it was exclusive ; in regard to the various opin ions within the Roman Church itself it was inclusive. The time had fully come when the interests of the Roman communion demanded that an authoritative body should set forth the Roman creed. Certain points of doctrine had been touched by mediaeval councils — notably by that of Ferrara and Florence, wherein the union of the Greek and Roman Churches was apparently brought about in 1439 ; the mediaeval popes had made some significant declarations, con spicuously Eugene IV. in consequence of the coun cil just cited ; but no general creed had been formu lated since the Athanasian symbol, and the ancient standards did not meet the points in debate in the sixteenth century. The middle ages had produced great doctrinal expositions and opinions of popes and theologians on this or that question of faith in abundance ; but not a compact creed. And the Lutherans had had such a creed, since 1530, in the Augsburg Confession — a badge of fellowship, a test of communion, a definite and authoritative state ment of their faith to be read of all men. The Church which claimed to speak with absolute au thority could not afford to remain less definite than the Lutherans. Having declared in the first of its doctrinal de crees that the Nicaeno-Constantinopolitan Creed is the basal symbol of the Roman Church, the 396 J. tie Reformation. council felt compelled to meet the question that no council had heretofore faced, but which the Ref ormation had thrust into the foreground — what is the deposit of truth which the Church regards as authoritative ? To the Protestants of the Reforma tion period that truth is contained in the Scriptures alone. As defined by the council, it is that "con tained in the written books, and the unwritten tra ditions which, received by the Apostles from the mouth of Christ himself, or from the Apostles them selves, the Holy Ghost dictating, have come down even unto us." The canon of the Bible was de fined according to its traditional form, thus ascribing authority to certain Old Testament books which Protestants reckoned apocrypha ; and, what was vastly more important, tradition was set on an equality with Scripture. The Vulgate translation was declared to be so far the standard " that no one is to dare or presume to reject it under any pre text whatever. " All right of private judgment in interpretation of the Scriptures was rejected "in matters of faith and of morals," and the Church adjudged the sole expounder of their "true sense." Thus several fundamental principles of Protestantism were explicitly repudiated, though the interpretive power of the pope was not affirmed — that was to be the work of the Vatican Council more than three centuries later. The foundations thus determined, the council next proceeded to meet other much-debated Prot estant positions in decrees concerning sin and justi fication. The latter, in particular, has always been Tridentine Theology. 397 regarded as a masterpiece of creed-statement. The task involved was difficult. It must reject Protestant justification by faith alone ; but it must do justice to the Thomist emphasis on divine grace, which was not unfriendly to a moderate presentation of that doctrine, however opposed the Thomists might be to Protestant views of the sacraments and Church ; and it must also find standing-ground for a doctrine of merit derived from good works. Jus tification, it affirmed, is a "translation from that state wherein man is born a child of the first Adam to the state of grace . . . through the second Adam, Jesus Christ." The conditions of the recep tion of this divine gift are faith, which is confidence in divine revelation, and especially in the truth " that God justifies the impious by his grace ; " and baptism, "which is the sacrament of faith" — orat least a desire for baptism. If justification is lost by mortal sin, penance is the condition of its restoration. Justification is free in that it is merited by no pre ceding faith or works. Man cannot be justified with out God's prevenient grace, though he has free will sufficient to cooperate with or reject the gift. And in justification, man receives not merely remission of sins, but " all these infused at once, faith, hope and charity." His growth in these Christian virtues — " the increase of justification received " — is aided by " the observance of the commandments of God and of the Church, faith cooperating with good works." These good works, which increase justification, have merit which deserves eternal life ; and they are truly man's, though only in the sense that divine 398 lhe Reformation. grace enables him to do them. Thus, while saying much with which a Protestant would agree, the decree practically allowed full room for a system of work-righteousness. The next step of the council was to affirm the sacramental character of the Roman Church, and the dependence of justification on the sacraments, "through which all true justice [i.e., righteousness] either begins, or, being begun, is increased, or, being lost, is repaired." The sacraments are declared to have been instituted by Christ, and are fixed as the mediaeval seven— " Baptism, Confirmation, the Eu charist, Penance, Extreme Unction, Order [ordina tion], and Matrimony." Having thus set forth the theory of sacraments in general, the council took up the explication of each of the sacraments, and this work, begun during its first session at Trent in 1547, was continued through its second session there in 155 1, and completed in 1562 and 1563. In general, the traditional mediaeval positions were simply given dogmatic authority ; though, as the middle ages had exhibited much diversity of opinion in minutiae, a compromise or indefinite attitude was assumed on a good many details of sacramental theory, but the main intent of the whole is perfectly definite. The Church, through its duly consecrated priesthood, is the sole dispenser of sacraments, which bring salva tion to all who receive them with a sincere desire to profit by them. Of these sacramental definitions, the most impor tant, from the point of view of the controversies of the age, were those having to do with the Supper, Tridentine Theology. 399 with penance and with ordination. In regard to the Eucharist, it is affirmed that, at the consecration, the substance of the bread and wine is entirely tran substantiated into the substance of the body and blood of Christ. It is fitting, therefore, to " render in veneration the worship of latria, which is due to the true God, to this most holy sacrament." The denial of the cup to the laity is held to be a law of the Church which only the Church can change. The sacrificial character of the Supper is fully maintained as " truly propitiatory," " the victim " being " one and the same, the same now offering by the ministry of priests, who then offered Himself on the cross." Hence it is to be " offered for the living and the dead for sins, pains, satisfactions, and other necessi ties." The whole " canon " of the mass — criticised by the Protestants — is approved, and its celebration "in the vulgar tongue only " is condemned. In regard to penance, it is declared to be the sac rament "by which the benefit of the death of Christ is applied to those who have fallen after baptism." It involves contrition, confession and satisfaction. Contrition is emphasized in the Thomist spirit, and under the stimulus of the Protestant criticism, as " sorrow of mind, and a detestation for sin commit ted, with the purpose of not sinning for the future. " Attrition " — the fear of punishment — though a gift of God, is but an "imperfect contrition," a prep aration for a true penance. Such grace-giving sacraments, especially the sac rifice of the mass, demand for their administration a divinely appointed ministry. Hence, "sacrifice 40O Ihe Reformation. and priesthood are, by the ordinance of God, in such wise conjoined, as that both have existed in every law." There is "in the New Testament a visible and external priesthood," to which men are admitted by the sacrament of ordination. By this sacrament "a character is imprinted which can neither be effaced nor taken away ;" and in ordina tion " neither the consent, nor vocation, nor author ity, whether of the people, or of any civil power or magistrate whatsoever, is required in such wise as that, without this, the ordination is invalid." The Protestant doctrine of the universal priesthood of believers is thus set aside. The council concluded its work by treating com paratively briefly of purgatory, invocation of saints, veneration of relics and images, and indulgences. It was admitted that serious abuses had crept in, but the doctrines themselves were maintained in their mediaeval integrity. Beside these doctrinal decisions, the council di rected a number of valuable reforms, for the better education and supervision of the clergy, the resi dence of bishops in their dioceses, and the provision of a zealous and worthy priesthood. These reforms simply embodied the spirit which had long been manifest in the Spanish Awakening, the Italian reform movements and the Jesuits. For the Roman Church the Tridentine creed was a great advantage. It could now appeal to a modern, clear and authoritative presentation of its faith. It now possessed a definite doctrinal test and a bond of doctrinal unity. The real unity of the Roman Strength Renewed. 401 Church remained, indeed, where it always is to be found, in obedience to the pope ; but it was no small convenience to be able to meet the Protestants with a unity of professed faith embodied in a compact creed. Yet, in so doing, the Roman Church ster eotyped its mediaeval character. One other force of great importance contributed to the success of the counter-Reformation — the en ergetic support of several of the Catholic sovereigns. In speaking of the Jesuits, mention has already been made of the aid given to Jesuit missionaries and founders by John III. of Portugal (ruled 1521-57). In Germany great assistance was afforded the counter-Reformation by Albrecht V. of Bavaria (ruled 1550-79). Under his rule, Bavaria became a Roman stronghold, in the years which immediately followed the Council of Trent, and from Bavaria outward efforts to win back Germany to the Roman fold were constant. Without such political and re ligious support as Bavaria supplied, and without the influence of the example which Albrecht's suppres sion of Protestantism and the revival of the Roman Church within its borders afforded, the counter- Reformation would have won no such successes in Germany as came to it in the second half of the six teenth century. What Albrecht stood for in Ger many that Philip II. of Spain represented on a scale commensurate with western Christendom. Son of Charles V. and receiving from him the sovereignty of Spain (1556), the Netherlands, and of the Spanish conquests in Italy and the New World, he bent his energies, till his death in 1598, to the extirpation 402 l he Reformation. of Protestantism. Never heartily a friend of the Jesuits, and with much of that independence of the papacy in matters of administration which had marked the Spanish monarchs since the reign of Ferdinand and Isabella, he yet made the restoration of Catholicism his first object. In fixity of purpose, in relentlessness of method, he surpassed every ruler of his time. He crippled permanently the power and resources of Spain in his endeavor. But, while he lived, Catholicism had in him its chief political supporter, and Protestantism was not freed from peril of forcible extinction till his plans had shown themselves impossible of accomplishment. So it came about that the Roman Church, at the time of Melanchthon's death, presented a very dif ferent spectacle from that exhibited when Luther had begun his work. Its principles were essentially unchanged, but it had had a thorough awakening. The revival of piety and of theology, the formula tion of its doctrines, its missionary zeal, above all the enthusiasm and activity of its new order, the Jesuits, and the support of able princes, were all manifestations of vigorous life. It had renewed its strength and was ready to contest the right of Prot estantism to exist in Christendom. CHAPTER X. THE STRUGGLE FOR MASTERY. j]Y the opening of the seventh decade of the sixteenth century, the various types of the Reformation had crystallized into durable form. No new doctrinal principles of importance were being de veloped. No further attempts at a compromise which should unite Catholics and Protestants were undertaken. The Reformation had worked out its character. The most conspicuous of its leaders had passed away or had about run their course. Zwingli and Luther had gone long before. The year 1555 had seen Germany divided between Catholicism and Lutheranism by the Peace of Augsburg. In 1556 Ignatius Loyola died. In 1558 Charles V. closed his eventful career, and the accession of Elizabeth gave the upper hand permanently to Protestantism in England. The next year Calvin published the com pleted form of his Institutes, and Caraffa ended his long life. Melanchthon passed from the storms of a world which so wearied him in 1560, and the same year witnessed the determination of Scotland for the Protestant side. In 1563 the Council of Trent finished a work a large part of which had been com- 403 404 The Reformation. pleted ten years before, and the year following Cal vin ceased from his Genevan labors. With the ex ception of John Knox, none of the formative men of the creative period of the Reformation age re mained. As a movement, the character of the Reformation, Protestant and Catholic, was deter mined. But though the character of the Reformation had thus become fixed, the question of the division of western Christendom between its various types was never more unsettled. If northern Germany, sev eral of the great cities of its southern portion, a considerable part of Switzerland, and the Scandi navian lands could be reckoned as Protestant, and England and Scotland, though with much less cer tainty, counted as facing in the same direction, Spain and Italy were evidently Roman. Between the two types, as yet in doubt were France, on the whole decidedly inclined to the Catholic side, and the Netherlands, southern Germany and Austria, the religious destiny of which was wholly problematical. They were to be the battle-ground between Cathol icism and Protestantism, and this battle was neces sarily largely political and to be decided by military force. For such a contest the Roman side, if united, possessed great superiority. The resources of the Spanish sovereign in income and in troops of proved valor were the greatest of any king in Eu rope, and the ruler of France, though not as yet his equal, was the head of a monarchy more compact and resourceful than that of any Protestant prince. The Protestant states of Germany were individu- Christendom Divided. 405 ally weak and indisposed to effective combined ac tion. The Scandinavian lands had not yet counted much in the scale of European politics. Scotland was distracted and insignificant. England, though Protestant in policy during the opening years of the reign of its new sovereign, Elizabeth, was still divided and uncertain internally, and, if united, was supposed to be no match for Spain or even for France. It was evident that a united Catholicism could force Protestantism to a fight for its life. Catholicism had not thus far been united politi cally. That disunion, more than any other cause, had permitted Protestantism to grow. The rivalry between France and the Habsburg monarchy had prevented the execution of the Edict of Worms, had well-nigh frustrated the general council which Charles V. desired, and had, in the end, ruined the life-work of that emperor and enabled the Luther ans of Germany to win for themselves a legal stand ing. That rivalry, contending for control of Italy, had involved the popes of the early Reformation period in policies oftentimes of great advantage to Protestantism, as when Clement VII. released Francis I. from the treaty of Madrid in 1526, and thereby renewed the wars which had apparently been brought to an end by the victory of Pavia. But now, at the close of the sixth decade of the sixteenth century, this rivalry seemed about over. The Catholic political forces were uniting. Prot estantism was to experience its greatest peril while this union continued. By successive acts of abdication in 1554, 1555, 406 The Reformation. and 1556, Charles V. transferred to his son Philip II. the sovereignty of those portions of Italy of which the Spaniards were masters, of the Netherlands and of Spain. The crown of the empire Charles V. could not add to these gifts to his son, as he wished. In 1558, it went to Charles's brother, Ferdinand I. In many ways, however, this division was far from being a loss to the Spanish monarchy. Germany had been a source of sore perplexity to the cool and skilful Charles V. Germany more than half Prot estant would have proved an embarrassment rather than a help to Charles's fanatic and tyrannous son. With the sovereignty of Spain, Italy and the Neth erlands, Philip II. inherited his father's protracted, but unfinished, war with Henry II. of France — a war of which the main features thus far had been the gain by Henry of the German fortress-cities of Metz, Verdun and Toul as the price of aid to Ger man Protestants, and the gallant defence of Metz by the duke of Guise against Charles V.'s attempt to regain it. This war had been scarcely suspended by the truce of Vaucelles in 1556 when it was re newed by Caraffa, now become Pope Paul IV., who hoped, with French aid, to drive the Spaniards out of Italy. This fiery pontiff, in many respects one of the founders of the counter-Reformation, was politically the last of the popes to attempt to give independence to Italy by playing off the great rivals — France and Spain — against each other. But in the renewed war the advantages came to Spain. The duke of Alva defeated the pope and maintained the Spanish grasp on Italy ; and on the northern Spanish Victories. 40 7 frontier of France a composite army of Spaniards and Netherlanders, largely owing to the skill of the Netherlandish general of cavalry, Lamoral, Count of Egmont (1522-68), completely routed the French near St. Quentin in August, 1557. Though the duke of Guise took Calais from Spain's English allies the next year, a second Spanish victory was won by Egmont near Gravelines in July, 1558. These successes failed to yield the Spaniards what they might, owing to Alva's religious scruples about pushing matters too far against the pope, and Philip's own want of energy and skill in following up the northern victories. Nevertheless, they won more than Charles V. had gained in all his long struggles. No pope thereafter for two generations ventured to question Spanish supremacy in Italy ; and the treaty drawn at Cateau-Cambresis in April, 1559, established a peace between France and Spain that was largely to unite those countries for the sup pression of Protestantism for the next thirty years. Probably that result would not have been as per manent as it proved had not Henry II. been killed in a tournament three months after the treaty was signed, and France, under the successive rule of his weak sons, Francis II. (1559-60), Charles IX. (1560- 74), and Henry III. (1574-89), become the scene of bitter civil strife as to whether toleration should be enjoyed by the French Huguenots or not. These things made it impossible for France to resume the old struggle for the political mastery of Europe, and bound her policy, as far as she may be said to have had a policy, fast to that of Spain. 408 The Reformation. — ¦ ' ¦— ¦ - "— ¦ -¦ •• ¦ ¦ ¦ .¦¦¦¦!¦ — - II |,1 Probably the moment of highest danger for Prot estantism in Europe was in the few months after the death of Henry II. Philip still had the support of all his subjects. England had not yet become predominantly Protestant in spirit. Scotland was entering on the throes of the Reformation struggle. Elizabeth's title to the throne of England, or to legitimacy of birth, was denied by Mary "Queen of Scots," wife of Francis II. of France; and if this denial was justified, as many thought it, then France, England and Scotland belonged to a husband and wife of strongly Roman sympathies. Had their claim then been supported by Philip of Spain, it is not too much to say that the religious history of western Europe would have been altered. The Reformation would have run a different course in England, Scotland and the Netherlands. But, de voted son of the Roman Church as Philip was, a combination that should put England, France and Scotland under joint rulers was too dangerous to the political supremacy of Spain to be welcome ; and he therefore really, though unobtrusively, aided Elizabeth — thus throwing away, for good political reasons, the best opportunity that ever came to him to further the counter-Reformation. When, a few months later, Mary returned to Scotland a widow, and France passed from her husband's hands, the opportunity was gone, for Scotland had declared for the Reformation, France was entering on a civil war, and premonitory symptoms of restiveness under Spanish rule could be perceived in the Netherlands. The death of the fairly forceful, if not highly Dangers to Protestantism. 409 talented, Henry II. in the fulness of his strength left the crown of France to a feeble boy of sixteen, Francis II., and set three rival forces into struggle for the control that the young king was too weak to exercise. Most influential in the councils of the new sovereign were two gifted brothers, Frangois, duke of Guise (1519-63), the defender of Metz and con queror of Calais, and Charles (1524-74), eminent among the French clergy as archbishop of Rheims, and known as the Cardinal of Lorraine. Sprung from a younger branch of the ducal family of Lor raine, which had gained prominence in France through the military services of their father, Claude of Guise, under Francis I., they were looked upon by many of the French nobility as foreigners and upstarts, as well as dreaded by reason of their abilities. Francois was the ablest general that France could show. Charles was a prelate fully im bued with the ideas of the counter-Reformation. Both were men of the utmost ambition and unscru- pulousness, and both were devoted to the cause of Catholic restoration. At the accession of Francis II., whose wife, Mary " Queen of Scots," was their niece, these men practically took control of the mili tary and civil government of France in the name of the young king ; and their authority increased the persecution of the Protestants. In polar religious and political opposition to the Guises were the Calvinists of France — the Hugue nots. In spite of augmenting persecution, Prot estantism of the Genevan type, Calvinistic in theology and Presbyterian in government, had won 410 The Reformation. adherents in France, especially in the south and west. By 1555, they had a church in Paris itself, though Paris was of all French cities that, perhaps, the most hostile to the Genevan Reformation. In 1559, soon after the peace of Cateau-Cambresis was signed, they held their first national synod at Paris, and adopted a Confession of Faith. Even a year before that meeting, the Venetian ambassador esti mated their strength at four hundred thousand. Among their adherents, most of whom were from the middle classes, were a number of the high nobility of France, and, conspicuously, members of two families of great distinction — those of Bour bon and of Chatillon. The head of the former house, Antoine de Vendome, himself a prince of royal blood, was the husband of Jeanne d'Albret, titular queen of Navarre, and daughter of Mar guerite d'Angouleme. Though of weak abilities, his rank gave him much conspicuity. Antoine's younger brother, Louis, prince of Cond6, was a gallant soldier, though a man of impulses. Of the house of Chatillon, the leader was Gaspard de Coligny (1517-72), known as Admiral Coligny, though his services were on land rather than on the sea — a man of sterling character, statesmanlike abilities, intelligent and devoted Calvinism, and high military reputation, both as the reorganizer of the French infantry and as the heroic defender of St. Quentin. Religious principles mingled with political jealousy to induce these men to oppose the house of Guise ; and the Huguenots, though a mere fraction of the population of France, were so Parties in France. 4 1 1 ably led as to count for much more than their weight in numbers, - Had these tv/o parties been all of importance in France, the situation would have been simple, and its solution probably prompt. But a third factor was to enter into the struggle, the influence of the queen-mother, the widow of Henry II., Catherine de' Medici (1519-89). A grand-niece of Pope Clement VII., endowed with all the skill, capacity for intrigue, ambition and unscrupulousness that marked the great Florentine family from which she sprang, she was without serious concern as to the religious aspects of the struggle which was about to convulse France, but, though often irresolute as to details of policy, was determined to rule and to pre serve unimpaired the powers of the crown amid the contests of the great nobles. Hence she made use of both parties, and was herself loved by neither. Without influence under the reign of her husband, who paid far more heed to the counsels of his mis tress, Diane de Poitiers, she plotted and bided her time. Calvin had taught that the powers that be are ordained of God and had opposed any rebellion against a sovereign ; but to repel usurpers, such as the Guises seemed, was quite another matter in the eyes of many Calvinists. Though Calvin disap proved his plan as designed, a Calvinist gentleman of Perigord, La Renaudie by name, probably with the approval of Conde, now conspired with others to seize the king and the Guises and transfer the government to the Bourbons in March, 1560. The 412 The Reformation. plot, known as the " Conspiracy of Amboise," com pletely failed. Though, in the fear which the peril inspired, the severer aspects of the repression of Protestantism temporarily disappeared, the Guises speedily recovered. It was widely believed that they were about to force the acceptance of a Catho lic creed on all clergymen and lay-officials through out France on pain of death ; and they would have executed Conde on December 10 had not the sud den demise of Francis II., five days before, unex pectedly checked their measures. Charles IX., Francis's brother and successor, was not yet eleven, and with his accession the controlling power came for the first time to his mother, Catherine de' Medici, aided by a statesman of broad and con ciliatory views — Michel de l'H6pital (1504-73), who had become chancellor of France in 1560. She now aimed at a reconciliation of the factions, released Cond6 from prison, greatly limited the power of the Guises, and gave Antoine, king of Navarre, the head of the Bourbon house, the leading place among the nobles of the court. The Huguenots, who had been well-nigh in despair, now rejoiced, and indulged the most flattering hopes, the more so that open demands were made in the States General for a complete reform of the civil and religious constitu tion of France, that a public discussion of the doc trinal differences between Catholic and Protestant theologians was held at Poissy in September, 1561, in which Theodore Beza presented the Calvinistic faith before the king and court, and that, in Jan uary, 1562, an edict was issued through l'H6pital's The Huguenot Wars. 413 influence, by the government at St. Germain, by which the Huguenots first gained official recognition, and were allowed to assemble without arms for wor ship except in the walled towns. It was believed that the Huguenot congregations numbered already more than two thousand, and to the more sanguine the conversion of France to Protestantism seemed imminent. But the Catholic party, headed by the Guises, looked upon these acts with aversion. Rather than submit, they would provoke war. An attack upon an unarmed Huguenot congregation worshipping at Vassy, by the body-guard of the duke of Guise, on March 1, 1562, threw France into flame and began civil wars of extraordinary ferocity. In sympathy with the Guises stood Anne de Montmorency, grand- constable of France, and Marshal St. Andre, and they won to their side the weak king of Navarre. The leadership of the Huguenots devolved on Conde. The queen-mother was for the moment powerless. The Catholics gained help from Spain, the Catholic Swiss cantons and the pope, the Prot estants from England and Germany. Normandy was the first seat of the war, and in an attack on Rouen, the king of Navarre received a wound that cost him his life. On December 19, 1562, the rival armies met at Dreux, in an indecisive battle. St. Andr6 was killed, Conde taken by the Catholics and Montmorency by the Huguenots. Great cruel ties were perpetrated on both sides. But on the whole, the Catholics were gaining, when, in Feb ruary, 1563, the duke of Guise was murdered by a 414 The Reformation. Protestant sympathizer as he was besieging the Huguenot stronghold of Orl6ans. He left his title, and a burning desire to avenge his death, to his thir teen-year-old son, Henry — the duke of Guise of the later Huguenot struggles. The successive loss by death or capture of their four leaders discouraged the Catholics. Catherine wanted peace with both parties, and the war came to an end in March, 1563, with the Edict of Amboise. The Huguenot nobles were allowed freedom in religion, one place of public worship was allowed the Protestant common people of each governmental district, and in each city where they then existed the Calvinist services were to con tinue. In Paris, however, only Catholic worship should be tolerated. Neither side was satisfied with the result ; but, considering their great numerical inferiority, the scale of victory may be said to have inclined to that of the Huguenots. But Catherine de' Medici, whose skill in playing both parties had largely brought about the peace, gained more from it than either. For several years the exhaustion of Catholics and Protestants and the skill of Catherine enabled her to keep peace. She resisted the urgency of Philip II. and the personal exhortations of his able ambas sador, the duke of Alva, in 1565, to turn her forces to the suppression of Protestantism. But a constant state of friction continued, and contemporary Span ish severities in the Netherlands added to the grow ing tension. The Huguenots beheld with fear the renewed influence of the cardinal of Lorraine at court — they planned once more a secret rising which The Huguenot Wars. 415 should put them in control of the king. In Sep tember, 1567, the attempt failed; but the result was a brief second war, resulting in a practical con firmation, by the treaty of Longjumeau, in March, 1568, of the privileges embodied in the Edict of Amboise of 1 563. The truce was only temporary. Catherine and many others regarded the Hugue nots as having been unjustifiable aggressors in the last struggle ; and the queen now dismissed the moderate l'H&pital, joined the policy of the car dinal of Lorraine, forbade Protestant worship, and ordered Protestant ministers to leave France within fifteen days. The result was the outbreak, in the autumn of 1568, of the third Huguenot war. It went badly for the Protestants. In March, 1569, they were defeated at Jarnac and Cond6 killed. Coligny now led the Huguenots, and was defeated at Moncontour in the following October ; but he was a soldier of great resources, and in Rochelle the Huguenot cause had a fortress of strength. Both parties were exhausted, and Queen Catherine was growing restive under the increasing influence in the greater politics of Europe as well as in the affairs of France, which the continuance of the struggle was giving Philip II. Even the more ardent French Catholics felt that Philip was acting rather for his advantage than for that of France. The result was a new treaty — that of St. Germain — in August, 1570, by which the Huguenots were assured free exercise of worship, except at Paris and in the presence of the court, were granted equal rights, and assigned possession of four cities as a pledge for its fulfil- 416 The Reformation. ment. The Huguenots were thus made a state Within the state. The effect of this pacification and of the jealousies of Spanish aggrandizement which were to a considerable extent its cause wrought a great, though temporary, change in the attitude of France. The thought awoke of a re newal of that ancient struggle with Spain, relin quished only eleven years before, of conquest at Spain's expense, which a successful intervention in the disturbed affairs of the Netherlands might bring ; and with that thought came an unwonted promi nence at court of the Huguenots who were Spain's most determined enemies, and especially of that most famous of living French soldiers, the Hugue not chieftain, Admiral Coligny. The contest in the Netherlands, with which that in France was largely interlocked, though resulting ultimately in a great extension of the power of Protestantism, began in political, quite as much as in religious, disputes, and was throughout largely involved in efforts for political freedom. The Netherlands, as has already been noted, were pre eminently a manufacturing and commercial region, a land of flourishing towns, of a population well- to-do and well-educated far beyond the average of western Europe, and marked by that jealousy for local rights and disinclination toward all that would make trade difficult which a predominantly mercantile people usually exhibits. As it came to Philip, in 1555, from Charles V., this old Bur- gundian inheritance, which marriage had brought to the Habsburgs in 1477, included seventeen prov- The Netherlands. 417 inces, each with its local governmental institutions, its local customs and its peculiarities of population. Its Catholic religious administration was equally un- centralized. The land was divided into four large bishoprics, of which three owed spiritual allegiance to the archbishop of the French see of Rheims, and one to the archbishop of Cologne — neither of which prelates were in Philip's territories. Charles V., who enjoyed high popularity in the Netherlands, and re garded the country as his home-land, having been born at Ghent, was wise enough, in such changes in the Netherland constitution as he effected, to at tempt no very serious interference with the local rights of the provinces, either political or ecclesias tical. His greater authority there enabled him to carry out a persecuting policy toward Protestants, however, much more severe than he could command in Germany. Though there was much inequality in the degree in which his edicts were enforced by his representatives, many executions occurred, and the policy of the emperor was never in doubt. But Protestantism grew. Among the middle classes, Calvinism displaced the Lutheranism that had en tered from Germany early in Luther's reformatory career. Anabaptism was widespread, especially among the lower classes. By 1562, as remarked in a previous chapter, the adherents to Protestantism were reckoned a hundred thousand. The new ruler of these individual and peculiar ter ritories had before him a hard task in any event ; but the fixed principles of Philip's mind rendered his peaceable rule impossible as soon as he began to 4 1 8 The Reformation. translate them into action. He was determined to secure political and religious uniformity similar to that which existed in Spain, where the king was the source of all authority, and where all departures from doctrinal orthodoxy were suppressed. He had no idea that any other form of government was good. But to apply these principles rigidly to the Nether lands meant immediate and general friction. And apply them he did at once. When he returned to Spain, in 1559, after the conclusion of the war with France by the peace of Cateau-Cambr6sis, he des ignated his sister, Margaret of Parma, an illegitimate daughter of Charles V., as regent. The appoint ment itself was not unpopular, since Margaret was a Netherlander by birth ; but Philip placed by her side a consulta, or advisory committee of three, of which the animating spirit was that of Philip's de voted friend and experienced public servant, An toine Perrenot (1517-86), bishop of Arras, and soon to be known as Cardinal Granvella. Not merely did Granvella heartily support Philip's policy, but his prominence angered the high nobles of the Nether lands, to whom he seemed an upstart, in spite of the eminent services which his comparatively humble- born father had rendered Charles V. The consulta, moreover, in practical administration, usurped the power of the regular councils of state, in which the high nobles of the land shared. Several acts of Philip, either directly or through this new government, roused much hostility. Though the war with France no longer gave reason for their presence, he continued the Spanish troops The Netherlands. 419 in the Netherlands after the peace of Cateau- Cambr6sis, and was induced only with difficulty to withdraw so menacing a weapon. Even greater anger was aroused when, in 1559 and 1560, he pro cured from Paul IV. and Pius IV. a total reconstitu- tion of the ecclesiastical geography of the Nether lands, by which, instead of the four ancient bishops, there should be three archbishops and fifteen bishops in the land. Much was to be said in favor of giving to the Netherlands an independent ecclesiastical or ganization ; but these wholesale changes seemed a terrifying increase of the power of the Spanish sov ereign, for not only did he nominate the new prelates, but their participation in the States General greatly diminished the weight of the old Netherland nobil ity in the councils of state and augmented clerical influence in a land without sympathy for Spanish clericalism. A third cause for dislike was found in Philip's insistence on a rigid enforcement of the edicts against " heresy " — the king using his utmost endeavor to strengthen every instrumentality for the suppression of Protestantism. Though the higher classes had, as yet, little sympathy with a revolt from Rome, the Netherlandish people were naturally averse to persecution, the Inquisition was hurting trade and driving artisans to England. The numerous cruel executions were viewed with in creasing popular abhorrence. Chief of the opposition to these measures, though with no thought of rebellion against Philip, were three members of the "State Council," who were justly reckoned the most eminent of the Netherland 420 The Reformation. nobles. First in rank and fame was William of Nassau (1533-84), prince of Orange, a protege of Charles V., born a Lutheran, but now nominally at least a Catholic, as yet apparently simply a splendor- loving noble of considerable talents, but to develop, in the stress of struggle, into one of the firmest, most resourceful and courageous of a century of great men. Far less significant in retrospect but almost as eminent at the time were the count of Egmont, already spoken of as the victor at St. Quentin and Gravelines, and the count of Horn, admiral of the Netherlands. These men from the first showed themselves opponents of Granvella, earnestly de sirous to maintain the influence of Netherland nobles in the councils of state, and to moderate the edicts against Protestantism — though none of them were now Protestants. To Philip it came gradually to seem that they were the chief hindrances to the ex ecution of his plans. They led other nobles in a union which forced the reluctant king to dispense with Granvella's services in 1564. But their rejoic ing over this success was short-lived ; for though Philip withdrew his counsellor, he did not change his policy, but rather intensified its obnoxious re ligious aspects before the close of the year just men tioned by demanding the acceptance and enforce ment of the decrees of the Council of Trent. This signified more searching persecution at a time when the growth of Protestantism was showing increas ingly the ill-success of the policy ; and, therefore, early in 1565, the impetuous, but injudicious, Egmont was sent to Madrid to enlighten Philip as The Netherlands. 421 to the state of affairs in the Netherlands, and, if possible, induce a change of policy. Egmont was deceived by the cordiality of the king's reception ; but Philip's determination was in no way altered. In spite of growing popular discontent, he directed, in 1565, a strict enforcement of the laws against "heresy," and energetic support of the Inquisition. This unyielding attitude led to the circulation of a petition known as the " Compromise," requesting a modification of the edicts and protesting against the Inquisition, by Philip Marnix of Ste. Alde- gonde, Henry, count of Brederode, and Louis of Nassau, younger brother of William of Orange, which received some two thousand signatures of Protestants and Catholics alike, though the highest of the nobles did not care to commit themselves by so positive a step. On April 5, 1566, this petition was formally presented to the regent — the nick name "Beggars," given to them on this occasion, became thenceforth the name of the party of Nether landish freedom. This act but increased the pop ular excitement. Calvinistic preaching now was heard openly in many places. The Protestant movement showed its real strength. The organiza tion of a Calvinistic national church was sketched. And in August, 1566, a tremendous series of icono clastic riots, vigorously opposed by such men as William of Orange, wrecked the windows, images and pictures in hundreds of Netherland churches. The people were aroused, at last, no less than the nobles. In the terror of the moment, the regent granted a measure of freedom of worship. 422 The Reformation. To Philip this seemed flat rebellion to be met only by prompt severity, especially toward the high nobles, whom he deemed the authors of the dis turbances. But he moved cautiously. Almost all the Netherland leaders, save William of Orange, were deceived as to his intentions ; but no one could be blind to their meaning, when, in August, 1567, the duke of Alva (1 508-82), reputed one of the ablest of Spanish generals, arrived at Brussels with a picked Spanish army and instructions that placed the government practically in his hands. Egmont and Horn were treacherously seized. Orange escaped his power. A ferocious court — the "Council of Troubles " — was established, and immediate execu tions followed. The Inquisition was intensified. Meanwhile William of Orange, safe in Germany, was raising money and troops, and in May, 1568, his brother, Louis of Nassau, began a war by de feating a Spanish detachment at Heiliger Lee. Alva replied by the execution of Egmont and Horn, and even more effectively by a campaign of much bril liancy in the summer and autumn of that year, in which he routed Louis of Nassau and exhausted the resources of William of Orange. Alva was now at the height of his power. Executions were constant, hundreds fled the land. But a further step, in 1569, aroused opposition from many whom his previous acts of tyranny had not affected. He determined to introduce a system of taxation with which he was familiar in Spain. One per cent, was levied on all property, five per cent, on transfers of real estate, and ten per cent, on sales of merchandise. What* The Netherlands. 423 ever such taxes might seem in non-commercial Spain, to the people of the Netherlands they ap peared commercial ruin. Alva had now alienated all classes ; and so strong was the opposition that he delayed the enforcement of the tax for two years. Meanwhile William of Orange, unable to do much for the Netherlands, gave such aid as he could to the Huguenots of France in the struggle of 1 569-70, and commissioned sea-rovers, in conduct little better than pirates, who found precarious protection in English harbors and preyed on Spanish commerce. In April, 1572, a company of these sea-rovers un expectedly captured Brill. The northern provinces rose. William of Orange put himself at the head of the movement. Louis of Nassau captured the strong southern fortress of Mons. On July 18, Hol land, Zealand, Friesland and Utrecht recognized William as their stadtholder. It was in reality, though not in form, or even yet in intention, a declaration of independence. The prince and people expected the immediate aid of France, where Charles IX., under the guidance of Coligny, seemed about to renew the ancient quarrel with Spain. Had France so done at this time, the freedom of most of the Netherlands from Spanish tyranny would have been quickly secured, though their southern portion would have been annexed by France. But an event of horrifying atrocity now suddenly altered the policy of France and beclouded the bright prospects of the Netherlands revolt. To cement the reconciliation of the French religious factions, a marriage was agreed upon, in spite of 424 The Reformation. the opposition of the pope, between Marguerite of Valois, sister of King Charles IX., and Henry of Navarre, the young head of the house of Bourbon, the Protestant son of that Antoine, king of Navarre, who had lost his life in 1562. For this wedding, the chiefs of the Huguenot party and many Catho lic nobles of France assembled in the fanatically Catholic city of Paris in August, 1572. The Guise faction and the Spanish interest naturally looked with alarm upon the altered policy of France. Henry, the young duke of Guise (1550-88), viewed Coligny with special hatred as supposedly responsi ble for the death of his father, and, more important yet, Catherine de' Medici began to fear lest Coligny should usurp the influence which she had thus far exercised over her royal son. On August 22, an attempt was made to assassinate Coligny. It failed; and the queen-mother received renewed proof of the value placed by Charles IX. on the Huguenot ad miral. In a panic of fear for her own authority, she resolved on a step which she seems for some time previous to have regarded as possibly an ultimate weapon, but for which she had till now made no definite plan — she would rid herself of Coligny, and of the Huguenots who would be likely to avenge him, by a general massacre. For this scheme, the hatred of the Guises and the fanatic population of Paris furnished abundant tools. Charles IX., whose nature was weak rather than deliberately cruel, was won to the plan by representations that the Hugue nots were plotting to avenge in some way upon him the attack already made on Coligny. Preparations St. Bartholomew. 425 were quickly finished ; and, on August 24, St. Bartholomew's Day, the storm broke. Admiral Coligny and many of the foremost Huguenots of France were killed, with hundreds of their follow ers, as if they had been wild beasts, and these scenes of slaughter were widely repeated in the smaller cities of France. Estimates of the number of vic tims vary greatly ; but a total sacrifice of five thou sand in Paris and of four or five times as many in the whole of France is not improbable. The news of this bloody deed was hailed with re joicing at Rome and at Madrid ; and with good rea son, if blind religious passion could overlook its moral enormity, for it had freed the Catholic cause from a great peril. The policy of France, as planned by Coligny, was instantly reversed. The outlook for the success of the party of freedom in the Neth erlands was rendered almost desperate. The sacri fices, dangers and ravages through which that un happy land had to pass till the defeat of the Armada, in 1588, were the fruit of this massacre. From the point of view of those who rejoiced over it, it seemed at first a most successful stroke. Yet it did not bring to its authors or applauders, in reality, the lasting advantages that they hoped. Catholic sentiment in France was divided by the very horror of the deed. Though the Huguenots were crippled by the deaths of their older leaders and the enforced conformity to the court religion of Henry of Navarre and the younger Conde, they were not broken. They came out of a new war — the fourth of the long series— in 1573, with their 426 The Reformation. privileges only slightly abridged, and with high military repute gained from their heroic defence of Rochelle. The death of Charles IX., in 1574, was followed by the accession of his brother, Henry III. — a man of thoroughly evil character, wholly under the dominance of Catherine, and conspicuous in furthering the massacre of St. Bartholomew. The fifth Huguenot war broke out soon after his reign began, and it was at once evident that the Catholic party was divided. Its extremer members found a natural leader in Henry of Guise, while the moder ate portion, or " Politiques, " held some understand ing with the Huguenots to be necessary. The war dragged on. German troops were obtained by the Huguenots. In 1576, Henry of Navarre escaped from the court and declared himself once more a Protestant ; and so hard pressed were Catherine and Henry III. that they accorded to the Huguenots the most favorable terms yet granted them, in the year last mentioned. This result, and the evident impotency of the monarchy to crush Protestantism, now induced the strict Catholics to form associations in various parts of France to maintain the Roman Church even at the expense of resistance to the king. Out of these there developed the " League," having the support of Spain and the pope, and finding its recognized leader in Henry of Guise, who soon began to dream of becoming ultimately king of France. France was more than ever distracted. But the Huguenots held their own fairly well in the sixth (1577) and seventh (1580) wars, and gained again definite con- The Huguenot Wars. 427 cessions of freedom of worship in certain places, and a definite proportion of the judges of the higher courts of southern France, where the Huguenots were most strongly represented. After the close of this war, France had a brief respite from religious strife, till the death of Henry III.'s younger brother, Frangois of Anjou and Alengon, in 1584, made it evident that with Henry's demise the house of Valois would come to an end. Whenever that event should occur, Henry of Navarre, now a Prot estant, was the natural successor ; and to avoid so unpalatable an accession as that of a Protestant to the throne of France, not only Guise and the League, but Spain and the pope, were to put forth their ut most endeavors. Never had William of Orange's hopes for the freedom of the Netherlands been higher than when they where suddenly dashed by the massacre of St. Bartholomew in 1572. The two years that followed were the period of intensest struggle in the war. Alva's military abilities were undeniable. The re capture of Mons in September, 1572, rendered the Spaniards once more masters of the southern Neth erlands. Mechlin, which had refused a Spanish garrison, was sacked as an example. Alva's son, Federico, successfully invaded the north, capturing Zutphen and Naarden before the close of the year, and Haarlem in July, 1573. All were treated with the barbarity characteristic of the age. But he found a limit to his advance at Alkmaar, which he failed to take in the following October. Alva was now recalled to Spain, at his own request ; and was 428 The Reformation. succeeded, in November, by Luis de Requesens (1525-76), a man of more political skill and greater moderation than Alva, though the Spanish policy was almost unchanged under his rule. A force led by Louis of Nassau was defeated and their com mander killed at Mookerheyde in April, 1574; but in October the Spaniards were compelled to raise a second unsuccessful siege of Leyden, which was de fended with heroic constancy, and it was evident that the northern Netherlands could not be held by the forces of Philip II. Of all this heroic defence, William of Orange was the animating spirit. Thus far the southern provinces, which were predomi nantly Catholic, had been kept in hand by the Span iards, while in the north Calvinism made rapid strides, and was now professed by William himself. But shortly after the death of Requesens — an event which occurred in March, 1576 — the ill-paid Spanish troops mutinied and sacked Antwerp with savage cruelty. The reaction of feeling caused by this barbarous outbreak united north and south, for the time being, in opposition to Spain. By the Pacifi cation of Ghent, in November, 1576, the provinces confederated to drive out the Spaniards, and Prot estantism was recognized as established in Holland and Zealand, though no anti-Catholic propaganda was to be permitted. Such was the state of affairs when the new Spanish commander, John of Austria (1547-78), arrived. An illegitimate son of Charles V., brought up with almost royal honors in Spain, and famous as the victor over the Turkish fleet at Lepanto, he was too full of plans for his own ad- The Netherlands. 429 vancement to pursue the vigorous policy of his two predecessors, had he so desired. He hoped to make the Netherlands a stepping-stone toward England, where he might perchance marry the imprisoned Mary " Queen of Scots," and secure the English throne for her and for himself. But, though inefficient, John of Austria intro duced a new policy in the treatment of the dis tracted Netherlands. By fomenting the jealousies between the Walloon and Catholic south and the Teutonic and Protestantly-inclined north, he did something to build up a Spanish party ; yet Philip II. only partially supported him, and he died, having practically failed, in October, 1578. What John at tempted to do was, however, successfully accom plished by his nephew and successor, Alexander of Parma, who was to represent Spanish interests with signal skill till his death in 1592. A general of great abilities, his talents as a statesman were almost equally marked ; and he set himself to save what he could for Spain. In this work he divided the Netherlands permanently into two sections, largely along racial lines. Between 1581 and 1585, he mas tered Ghent, Brussels and Antwerp. Thousands of Protestants emigrated from the southern prov inces to the northern. Before he died, the ten southern provinces had been won for Catholicism and kept for Spain. Philip II. 's Netherlandish monument is Belgium. But the seven northern provinces were lost to Spain forever. On January 23, 1579, five of them formed the Union of Utrecht. Their plan did not even yet reach to a formal crea- 43O J- tie Reformation. tion of a new nation. In July, 1581, allegiance to Philip II. was at last renounced. But though much of political negotiation remained to be done before these provinces became the United Netherlands, a new, vigorous Protestant nation, Calvinist in its state-religion, but tolerant beyond any existing country of Europe, had been born. Holland was the last conspicuous victory of Protestantism in the division of Europe which the Reformation effected. And so well had the work been done that when its chief architect, William of Orange, fell, on July 10, 1584, by the bullet of an assassin incited by fanat icism quite as much as by the rewards offered by Philip II., the structure was not overthrown by the shock. Just a month before the murder of William of Orange the death of Henry III.'s younger brother and expected successor, Francois, had renewed the difficulties of France. The Protestant Henry of Navarre was now heir to the throne, yet the League, headed by Henry of Guise, and supported by Spain and the pope, desired to have Henry of Navarre's Catholic uncle, Cardinal Charles Bourbon, recog nized as heir in his stead. It also demanded the restoration of many rights and privileges of the clergy and nobility which the monarchy had cur tailed. By 1585, the League was powerful enough to compel Henry III. to terms. In July, 1585, Protestant worship was forbidden throughout France, and certain cities were given as security into the hands of the leaders of the League, in the same way that other cities had formerly been given to the The Huguenot Wars. 43 1 Huguenots. The king was really in the power of the League. In September, Pope Sixtus V. de clared Henry of Navarre and the younger Cond6 excommunicate and incapable of occupying a throne. The consequence of these events was a new Huguenot war — that of the "three Henrys." Of all the parties, that of Henry III. and Catherine de' Medici was the most contemptible. The League grew in strength and popularity. Paris warmly supported it. In 1587, Henry of Navarre defeated the Catholics, but his German allies were beaten a little later by Henry of Guise, and would have been much more severely discomfited had not Henry III., jealous of the League, permitted them to leave France on easy terms. This act filled the cup of the king's unpopularity. On May 12, 1588 — the " Day of the Barricades " — the Parisians rose in favor of Henry of Guise and compelled Henry III. to flee the city. The duke of Guise was evidently more powerful than the king. But events marched rapidly to a tragic climax. Conscious of his weak ness, and ready to stoop to any means to rid him self of his enemy, Henry III., on December 23, 1588, had Henry of Guise murdered in cold blood. A fortnight later the artful, conscienceless Cath erine de' Medici died a natural death. On the assassination of Henry of Guise, Henry III. had cried : " At last I am king ; " but the event in reality cost him, for a time, about all his remain ing influence. Paris and many other cities of France rebelled in the interest of the League, and recognized Charles of Guise, duke of Mayenne, 432 j. ne i\.ejormation. younger brother of the murdered leader, as their head. In his perplexity, Henry III. now joined the forces of Henry of Navarre, and they unitedly laid siege to Paris. A considerable number of nobles now rallied to the aid of Henry III., and a victory over the League seemed within the grasp of the two Henrys so strangely joined, when, on August 2, 1589, Henry III. was assassinated by a fanatic monk who looked upon him as a traitor to the Roman cause. So ended in blood the house of Valois. But while these momentous events had been en acted in France, a tragedy of yet larger significance had run its course in the destruction of the Great Ar mada. Philip II. had long recognized that England was the main obstacle in the path of Spanish suc cess in the Netherlands and Catholic triumph in France. English harbors gave refuge to the Neth erland patriots, even while England was professedly at peace with Spain. English men and money aided the Huguenots. Elizabeth, tortuous in policy by nature, and forced to keep the balance between rival factions at home, tried the souls of the conti nental Protestants by her fickle support. But Eng land did support them, and that support was inval uable. Little by little Elizabeth took a more positive position, and from 1578 onward, she openly aided the Netherlands with money and men, while Drake, even before, made attacks on Spanish settlements which amounted to actual, if not nominal, war with Spain. But though Philip II., the pope and the League long recognized that the Catholic reaction on the England. 433 Continent could not be successful while England remained a Protestant refuge and help, they had strong hopes that England might come once more under the Roman obedience without the difficult task of its previous military conquest. The Catholics in England were still numerous. Mary "Queen of Scots," the heir to the throne, was an ardent cham pion of Rome. Should Elizabeth die, they believed the policy of England might be reversed. Hence the efforts of the counter-Reformation were long directed toward strengthening the Catholic party in England and devising measures to put Mary on the throne. To this end, in 1 570, Pope Pius V. declared Elizabeth deposed and excommunicate. With this object in view, William Allen (1532-94), the ablest English Catholic, established, in 1568, a college at Douai, which soon sent "seminary priests" in numbers to kindle political and religious resistance to Elizabeth in England itself. On lines similar to those char acteristic of this Douai mission institution, Allen reformed the Collegium Anglicanum at Rome, and brought the Jesuits into England from 1580 onward. Their zeal for Catholicism was martyr-like ; but their political intrigues and plots led to that feeling, still largely hereditary in the Anglo-Saxon race, that Roman aggressions imply something unpatriotic and underhanded. Elizabeth's government met them with an elaborate spy system, and with severe and often cruel executions — no less than a hundred and twenty-three priests and Jesuits being put to death during her reign. Much of this severity was due to fear engendered by a third method by which some, 434 The Reformation. at least, of the champions of the counter-Reforma tion sought its advance in England — that of plots involving Elizabeth's assassination. How real the danger from such plots in that age was, the death of William of Orange and the fate of the heads of the various parties in France illustrate. Elizabeth's strength and the source of failure of all these efforts of the counter-Reformation were little understood abroad. It lay in the powerful sense of nationality characteristic of England — a feeling of England for Englishmen that was strong enough to bind English Protestants and Catholics together in resistance to foreign aggression, and made both parties Englishmen first. But the vanity of their expectations was not clear to the continental Catholics till the execution of Mary "Queen of Scots," February 8, 1587, removed the central ob ject of intrigue and the hope of a Catholic succes sion to the throne of Elizabeth. Encouraged by financial aid from Pope Sixtus V., and by the rep resentations of Allen, whom the pope now made a cardinal, Philip II. now fitted out a great fleet to conquer England for the Roman obedience, to pre vent further English aid to the Netherlands, and to enable the Guises to determine the French succes sion in accordance with the wishes of the League. Had the plan succeeded, Protestantism would have disappeared as a political force in western Europe, and its suppression as a religious party would prob ably have resulted. In Spain the expedition was looked upon as a crusade, and the flower of the Spanish army and navy embarked on the one hun- The Great Armada. 435 dred and thirty-two vessels which were assembled at Lisbon in the spring of 1588. Beside the soldiers carried in the fleet, the plan proposed the transfer of Alexander of Parma and his veterans from the Netherlands to English soil. The main work of the Spanish fleet was to be to protect this transfer. Sailing from Spain, the "Great Armada " was met in the Channel, late in July, by the smaller, but better handled, English vessels, and without being de feated in a pitched battle, was thrown into con fusion, its conjunction with the forces of Alexander of Parma frustrated, and its course so harassed and impeded that its commander determined to sail back to Spain around the Orkneys rather than to risk a return through the Channel. In this attempt storms wrought enormous destruction, and of the proud armament not more than fifty-three crippled ves sels reached Spain in October. The great deliv erance had been wrought for England by the united patriotic efforts of Englishmen, Catholic as well as Protestant. Philip's hope of a Catholic rising proved utterly futile. But even more than the work of men the winds and waves wrought for England to the frustration of the Spanish anticipations. With the destruction of the Armada, the life-work of Philip II. was shattered, and the counter-Reformation in west ern Europe was checked as a political force. Eng land was the rock on which the threatening Catholic reaction made shipwreck. But though the loss of the Armada, in 1588, is seen in retrospect to have been fatal to the larger aspects of the policy of Philip II. , his influence in 436 The Reformation. France was never greater than in the years follow ing that naval disaster. The murder of Henry III. in August, 1589, revived the drooping prospects of the League, for France now would have, were Henry of Navarre to succeed as Henry IV. to his hereditary rights, what the League most dreaded and the pope had declared inadmissible — a Huguenot king. While many of the supporters of Henry III., including a large proportion of the nobles, rallied round Henry IV., Mayenne proclaimed Cardinal Bourbon as Charles X., and as the chief of the League, with the strong support of Paris, and sub sidies from Spain, determined to resist all Henry's attempts to gain the kingdom of which he was the natural sovereign. In the struggle that followed, Henry IV. was greatly aided by his personal quali ties. " The most French of French kings," he has well been styled. A dashing soldier, of undaunted personal courage, affable, genial, eloquent, witty, quick at repartee, sincerely interested in the welfare of his country, pleasure-loving, and of easy morality, his virtues readily won friends, while his faults were lightly condoned. He had to conquer the kingdom before he could possess it, and the task was arduous. A brilliant victory at Ivry, in March, 1590, enabled him to lay siege to Paris, and the city was about to surrender when Alexander of Parma and an excel lently equipped Spanish army came to the aid of the imperilled League, and Henry IV. had to abandon the attack. Similar assistance rendered to the League by that able Spanish general early in 1592 prevented the capture of Rouen when almost in The Edict of Nantes. 437 Henry's grasp. But Alexander died before the year was out, and the League was divided by intrigues on the part of Mayenne to secure the crown for himself, and of Philip II. to obtain it for his daughter. Finally, in 1593, Henry IV. accepted the Roman faith. However unjustifiable at the bar of con science, since there is no reason to suppose that it was due to religious conviction, this act was a shrewd political move. The opposition gradually melted away, though the pope did not recognize him till 1595, and some months more elapsed before May enne made his peace. With the establishment of Henry IV. came a set tlement of the religious questions of France. Uni versal toleration was impossible of attainment ; but by the Edict of Nantes, in April, 1598, the Hugue nots were granted freedom of worship wherever they had conducted it in 1597, though it was forbidden in Paris, Rheims, Toulouse, Dijon and Lyons. All offices of state were now opened to them, and they were allowed to maintain garrisons in their chief cities and fortresses. The Edict still left the Hu guenots a state within a state. This favorable posi tion, the most flourishing age of French Protestant ism, lasted till the loss of these corporate political privileges by the fall of Rochelle in 1628 ; but the religious toleration continued, though with increas ing limitations, till the revocation of the Edict of Nantes by Louis XIV., in 1685, drove from France a large portion of its Protestant population to the lasting advantage of England, Holland, Prus sia and America, and reduced those who remained to the condition of a hunted martyr-Church. 438 1 he Reformation. Henry IV. 's chief work for France was the recov ery of her internal prosperity, almost ruined by the long religious wars. In this he was eminently suc cessful. In external policy he reversed the attitude of France since 1559, and returned to the earlier ideals of the nation. Politically he marked out the path which Richelieu and Louis XIV. were suc cessfully to pursue. He would make France, not Spain, the leading power in Europe, and to that end he would ally himself with all the enemies of Spain and of the Austrian house, regardless of their re ligious attitude. In a word, political aggrandize ment, not religious propagandism, became the for eign — though not the domestic— policy of France. It was at the moment that he was about to attack the Austrian forces in the German duchy of Juliers and the Spaniards in Italy that he was murdered, May 14, 1610, by a fanatic, Francois Ravaillac. Had he lived the story of the Thirty Years' War in Germany might have been very different from what it was to be. The year that witnessed the Edict of Nantes be held the death of Philip II. (September 13, 1598). He had formed great plans for the counter-Reforma tion. He had spent men and treasure indefatigably for more than forty years to crush Protestantism. He had undoubtedly limited its advance and driven it from regions where it had entered when his reign began. But he had none the less failed, for he had aimed at the overthrow of Protestantism altogether. Instead, he was compelled to witness the successful revolt of the northern portion of the Netherlands, Failure of Philip II. 439 and the defiance of Spain by Protestant England. If the victory in France was, on the whole, on the Catholic side, he had yet to see there not merely toleration granted to Protestantism, but a reversion to the old policy of hostility toward the Habsburg house which, more than any other cause, paralyzed the counter-Reformation in its political efforts to re press Protestantism. While the lines in western Europe between the two great wings into which Christendom had divided were thus substantially determined by the close of the sixteenth century, Germany was yet to pass through a furnace of war before the religious bounds were there decided. The Peace established at Augs burg in 1555 was but a makeshift compromise. Within a generation it had ceased, in several im portant particulars, to meet the actual conditions of Germany. It gave no legal standing for Calvinists, who ever since Elector Friedrich III. of the Palat inate had signalized his adhesion to the Genevan doctrine by the publication of the Heidelberg Cate chism, in 1563, had been winning territories in west ern Germany, where the conflict with Catholicism was most immediate. It also left the status of many of the ecclesiastically-owned or ruled terri tories of Germany open to grave doubt. As strictly interpreted — and the Catholics so interpreted it — the Peace sanctioned only such confiscations of monastic and other churchly property as had already taken place by 1552. The Peace expressly pro vided that when a German prelate accepted Prot estantism he should resign his office and territories, 440 The Reformation. But the Protestants interpreted this as no barrier to the election of a Protestant to such a post, if the chapter chose, and his retention of the post if already a Protestant when elected. Under the reigns of the emperors Ferdinand I. (1558-64) and of his son, Maximilian II. (1564-76), both men of tolerant and conciliatory views, many ec clesiastical properties, especially in northern and eastern Germany, were confiscated — their popula tion having become Protestant — and a number of important north German bishoprics came into the hands of Protestant "administrators." This transfer was made easy at the time by the over whelming majority of the Protestants and the dis- heartenment of their opponents. But in no land did the counter-Reformation, and its fore-guard, the Jesuits, work more effectively than in Germany. With Rudolph II. 's accession to the imperial throne, which he was long to occupy (1576-1612), the tem poral headship of Germany and the immediate sov ereignty of the Austrian lands came into the posses sion of a devoted Catholic who had imbibed the ideas of the court of Philip II., where he had been educated. In Bavaria, from 1564 onward, a strenu ous Catholic restoration was in progress under Albrecht V. Meanwhile the Protestants were greatly crippled by the doctrinal discussions of Lutheran theologians, of which some account has already been given, and even more by the hostility between Lutherans and Calvinists, so that Protestant unity was fast becoming impossible. Under these circumstances the growing confidence Catholic Gains in Germany. 441 of the Catholics expressed itself in an increasing in sistence on the strict letter of the Peace of Augs burg — and more. The abbot of Fulda, the bishops of Bamberg, Salzburg, Munster and Paderbom, and other rulers, lay and ecclesiastical, took measures to root Protestantism out of their territories. Three especially conspicuous defeats came to the Prot estant cause. In 1582, the Catholics denied to the Protestant administrator of the archbishopric of Magdeburg a right to sit in the Reichstag ; and, though he protested, he did not make good his claim. Even more significant, as illustrative alike of Catholic advance and of Protestant division, was an event of the same year. Gebhard Truchsess, arch bishop of Cologne, and one of the seven electors, married and declared his intention to maintain his position as a Protestant. This step, which had the approval of a large part of the inhabitants of his territory, was clearly in contravention of the Peace of Augsburg. But its success would have given the Protestants a majority in the college of electors and secured an important territory, already largely Evangelical and lying between Protestant northern Germany and the Protestant Netherlands, perma nently for their cause. But Truchsess was aided by Calvinists. The Lutherans, therefore, would not help him ; and the Catholic forces were at once upon him. He was driven forth, and his territory made a Catholic land. The years 1606 and 1607 saw a yet more damaging blow. In Donauworth, an im perial free city, a Catholic procession was stoned by the people, who were almost entirely Protestant. 442 The Reformation. The emperor's council declared the town under the ban, and designated Duke Maximilian of Bavaria to enforce it. The city was seized and Catholic wor ship forcibly established. This final step seemed likely to bring matters to a crisis. On May 14, 1608, a number of south Ger man princes, headed by the Calvinist, Elector Fried rich IV. of the Palatinate, and including the rulers of Wiirtemberg, Neuburg, Culmbach and Anspach, formed a " Union " for action in defence of Prot estantism. On July 10, 1609, Maximilian of Bava ria and a number of the spiritual princes entered into a "League" for Catholic protection. Its name recalls that of the Catholic association of France. The strong Lutheran states of northern Germany were not willing to join the "Union," nor were the emperor and Austria in the " League." The emperor, Rudolph II., was in feeble health, and Austria was yet a largely Protestant land. Maximilian was ambitious for Bavarian advance ment. Lutheran Saxony opposed the movement. It was at this point that Henry IV. of France was proposing to make the dispute over the succes sion to Juliers the occasion of a great attack on Austria and Spain, when he was murdered. His death threw France into confusion till Richelieu became its master; and the "Union" and " League " faced each other without coming to blows for some years longer. Four conspicuous forces, represented by four men, now existed or speedily developed in Germany. The leading influence in the "Union," as well as its Parties in Germany. 443 creator, was Christian of Anhalt, the chief adviser of the elector Palatine. A man of great diplomatic ability, he trusted to negotiation rather than to arms, and made no adequate preparations for a struggle, the seriousness of which he underesti mated. Very different was Maximilian, ruler of Bavaria from 1598 to 165 1, a man of strong Catholic feeling, yet a cool, cautious, efficient administrator, whose army was the best drilled, and whose treasury was the best filled in Germany. In him the "League" had a capable head. Chief among the Lutherans of the north was Johann Georg, elector of Saxony from 161 1 to 1656 — a man without capac ities of leadership or statesmanlike insight, sus picious of all union with Calvinists, and anxious to preserve peace for his own territories at whatever cost. A fourth was Ferdinand of Styria (1578— 1637), a man of intense Catholic feeling, though of limited abilities, educated by the Jesuits at Ingolstadt, who had vigorously devoted himself to the extirpation of Protestantism from his hereditary territories, and, as Ferdinand II., was to succeed on the imperial throne, in 16 19, the feeble Matthias, who had held that eminent post since the death of his brother, Rudolph II., in 1612. To some extent, all these forces were mutually antagonistic. But the Prot estant factions stood much further apart than the Catholic. Could the Protestants have united, their force would have been decidedly the superior. The spark that kindled the conflagration came from Bohemia. That land, the population of which, like that of Austria, was then largely Protestant, had 444 -1 fie Reformation. obtained from Rudolph II., who was its king as well as the emperor, in 1609, in the Majestatsbrief, the amplest toleration then existent anywhere in cen tral Europe. The question whether the Bohemian throne was elective or hereditary was one in dispute ; but, in 1617, Ferdinand of Styria succeeded in in ducing the Bohemian Diet to recognize his claim to heirship, and it was evident that Bohemia would come under the rule of a determined supporter of the counter-Reformation. The Protestants soon felt the disadvantages of the situation. In May, 1618, a party of disaffected nobles flung the two Catholic regents from a high window at Prague — the victims marvellously escaping with their lives. Bohemia was now in rebellion, and the Thirty Years' War had begun. But the preparations of the Bohemians were inadequate. Though they raised an army, the nobles and towns were unwilling to pay taxes. Sax ony would do nothing for them, and the first real help was a little body of troops sent them by a per sistent enemy of the Habsburgs, Charles Emmanuel, duke of Savoy, under the command of an able sol dier, Ernst of Mansfeld (1580- 1626). In the early summer of 1619, a Bohemian force almost captured Vienna, and was checked only by the personal firm ness of Ferdinand, who, in August following, was chosen emperor. The Bohemians now felt on the high tide of success, and the same week that Ferdi nand received the imperial election they chose the Calvinist, Elector Friedrich V. of the Palatinate, as their king. On the advice of Christian of Anhalt, Friedrich accepted the election. Had the Luther- The Thirty Years' War. 445 ans, especially Saxony, now supported him, Bo hemia and Austria would probably be Protestant lands to-day. But not merely was Friedrich a Cal vinist, his assumption of the Bohemian throne seemed the aggrandizement of one noble of the em pire at the expense of another, and, if successful, would have given him two votes in the college of electors. Johann Georg of Saxony agreed to be neutral. Even the "Union" did not support the new Bohemian king. But while Friedrich was thus left to fight his battle almost alone, Maximilian of Bavaria and a Spanish force from the Netherlands came to the aid of Ferdinand. The army of the "League," under the capable Walloon general, Jan Tzerklas, Baron Tilly (1 559-1632), utterly de feated the Bohemian forces, led by Christian of Anhalt, near Prague, on November 8, 1620. Mean while Spanish troops threatened the Palatinate. Friedrich fled for his life, his leading Bohemian supporters were executed, the Majestdtsbrief can celled, the Jesuits given a large share of the con fiscated property, and the counter-Reformation vigorously established in Moravia and Austria, as well as Bohemia, with the result that those lands soon became almost wholly Catholic. The " Union was dissolved. Friedrich did not wholly abandon his claim to Bohemia, and Maximilian wanted compensation for the services rendered Ferdinand II.; the year 1621, therefore, saw the war carried into the Palatinate. Though Friedrich obtained some assistance from his neighbors, the forces that rallied to his aid made 446 j- ne- i^ejormation. themselves hated by their indiscriminate plunder ing, and before 1622 had passed, Tilly and the Span iards, working together, had practically conquered the whole of Friedrich's original territories. In February, 1623, Friedrich's electoral dignity was transferred as a reward to Maximilian of Bavaria, thus giving the Catholics a clear majority in the college of electors. Catholicism was introduced with a high hand into the Palatinate. The war might possibly have ended with this great loss to Protestantism had not Friedrich's former generals, Ernst of Mansfeld and Christian of Bruns wick, carried on the struggle with an army of prac tically irresponsible freebooters. Invited to serve Holland for a few months, they defeated the Span iards at Fleurus in August, 1622 ; but were dis missed from Dutch service in November, and set tled, supporting themselves by plundering, in East Friesland. This brought the war into north Ger many, for Tilly followed, and a year after Fleurus defeated Christian of Brunswick at Stadtlohn, near the Dutch frontier. This enlargement of the seat of war put the princes of northwestern Germany in fear lest they, too, should become objects of Cath olic attack, and should lose the bishoprics now in Protestant hands. They began to look outside of Germany for allies. Yet efficient supporters were hard to find, though the successes of Ferdinand II. and of the Catholic " League " had awakened much hostile feeling outside of Germany. James I. of England was the father-in-law of the deposed Friedrich. France, crippled by internal commo- The Thirty Years' War. 447 tions during the minority of Louis XIII., son of the murdered Henry IV., came, in 1624, under the control of the masterful Armand du Plessis, Cardinal Richelieu (1 585-1642), Louis's prime min ister. In foreign politics, Richelieu was the heir of the policy of Henry IV.— to reduce the power of Spain and of the Habsburgs in Germany. To Christian IV. of Denmark, the questions agitating the German bishoprics were of personal concern by reason of the possession of Verden by one of his sons, and he desired, also, to strengthen the hold of Denmark on the German North Sea coast so as to control the mouths of the Elbe and Weser rivers. And to a man of far greater force than Christian IV., Gustavus Adolphus (1 594-1632), king of Sweden, the German situation was disquieting. Since his accession, in 161 1, his policy had been directed toward rendering the Baltic a Swedish lake. To that end he had warred successfully with Russia and Poland, and was ready to seek the acquisition of the German coast of the Baltic ; but, deeper than these desires to magnify Swedish influence, he had a consciousness of a mission to defend Protestantism that was to raise him to the most heroic figure of the Thirty Years' War. But though there were many thus who were dis turbed by the rising power of the emperor and the " League " in Germany, an effective union was diffi cult. Richelieu, though checking the Spaniards in Italy, was busied with the reduction of the semi-in dependent Huguenot cities at home till 1629. Gus tavus, who saw clearly the magnitude of an attempt 448 l'he Reformation. to readjust the disturbed balance in Germany, held that fifty thousand men must be provided, their pay and equipment assured, and the whole command put into his hands. To these things the other dis affected powers were unwilling to agree. France and Sweden were therefore unable to interfere in Germany at this point, though both were later to do so with great effect. The only combination that could be brought about was an agreement by which Christian IV. of Denmark, with the pecuniary help of England and Holland, was to put an army of invasion in the field. Christian could count on support from the section of northwestern Germany known as the "Lower Saxon Circle," which chose him general, but the great Protestant electors of northern Germany still remained neutral. German Protestantism was still hopelessly divided. Though Protestantism was divided, Ferdinand II. was doubtful of his ability to meet this new antag onist. His money was exhausted, and Bethlen Gabor, the ambitious Protestant ruler of Transyl vania, with the countenance of the Turks, was threatening Ferdinand's feeble hold on Hungary. At this juncture, in 1625, however, one of the most remarkable military adventurers in history proposed to Ferdinand that he be allowed to raise and sup port an army without cost to the emperor — an army not to be maintained, like that of Mansfeld, on indis criminate plunder, but by forced taxes levied on the governments of the regions where it might operate. Albrecht of Waldstein, or Wallenstein (1 583-1634), was of Protestant Bohemian parentage and noble The Thirty Years' War. 449 birth. Left early an orphan, he accepted Cathol icism and came under Jesuit influence, though he seems to have had no personal religion, unless a belief in astrology can be so termed. A man of boundless ambition, self-confidence and energy, his rise had been rapid. As a soldier of ability, idolized by his men, he won distinction under Ferdinand when that emperor was simply ruler of Styria, and he rendered conspicuous service to the imperial cause in the campaign against Friedrich's brief kingship. On the conquest of Bohemia, he man aged, in ways more or less scrupulous, by gift and by purchase of confiscated estates, to become the wealthiest landowner in that kingdom. By 1623 he received the title of prince of Friedland from Fer dinand, and was in possession of an enormous for tune. Ferdinand could not refuse the offer of such assistance. He had been compelled thus far to de pend principally on the army of Bavaria and the ' ' League, ' ' of which Bavaria was the head. This new force would be his own. Thus encouraged, Wallen- stein quickly got together an army of adventurers. He raised no questions of religion or birth. His only tests were military ability and devotion to him self ; and the weapon that he forged was speedily a mighty instrument for aggression and oppression. The campaign that followed was brief and deci sive. English subsidies almost wholly failed Chris tian IV., owing to controversies in which Charles I. became involved with Parliament. Christian's forces, though nearly equal in number to those of his opponents, were inferior in training. On 450 i he Reformation. April 25, 1626, Wallenstein severely defeated the Protestant army which, under Ernst of Mansfeld, attempted to carry Wallenstein's fortified position at the Dessau bridge over the Elbe. Mansfeld re tired from central North Germany to Hungary, to join his remaining forces with those of Bethlen Gabor. On August 27, the army of the " League," under Tilly, routed that of Christian IV. at Lutter in Brunswick. Wallenstein followed Mansfeld to Hungary, and without severe battle compelled Beth len Gabor to a truce and Mansfeld to leave the land an exile. In November, Mansfeld died. Possessed thus of Hanover and Brunswick, the Catholics fol lowed up these successes in 1627. Wallenstein con quered Silesia. He then marched directly against the Danish king, and, by the beginning of 1628, had Holstein, Schleswig and Jutland almost wholly in his hands. It looked as if all Denmark would be conquered. Early in 1628, he overran Mecklen burg, and soon forced the submission of Pomerania. Mecklenburg was given him as a reward for his services. But though Wallenstein easily secured the lands adjacent to the Baltic, it was quite an other matter to gain possession of the Baltic sea ports ; yet they must be held, if Swedish inter ference was to be rendered impossible. In this attempt, Wallenstein encountered his first check. Though several of the Baltic seaports readily yielded, Stralsund heroically resisted, aided by Swedish and Danish supplies and by the difficulty experienced by Wallenstein in obtaining an efficient fleet. After ten weeks of siege, Wallenstein was The Thirty Years' War. 451 compelled to abandon the attack. It was plain that there were limits even to his power, and the fact was made more evident by the failure of Tilly and Wallenstein, in January, 1629, to take Gliickstadt at the mouth of the Elbe. Wallenstein saw that peace was desirable with Denmark before Sweden, whose king these attacks had greatly stirred, should send an army to the aid of Christian IV., and on May 22, 1629, agreement was reached. Christian kept his territories, but renounced all right in German bishoprics and pledged himself not to interfere in German politics. Never since the day when Charles V. defeated the Protestants at Miihlberg, in 1547, had an em peror seemed to possess such power as Ferdinand II. now enjoyed ; and even before the treaty with Denmark he employed it to the full to enact into a legal constitution the Catholic interpretation of the Peace of Augsburg. By an Edict of Restitution, in March, 1629, it was ordered that ecclesiastical property acquired by Protestants since 1552 should be surrendered, and no toleration accorded except to Lutherans. Western Germany had become largely Calvinist ; but the loss to the Lutheran lands would be hardly less, for the Edict gave to the Catholics the two great northern archbishoprics of Magde burg and Bremen, twelve bishoprics, and some one hundred and twenty other ecclesiastical properties, in almost, if not quite all of which, the population was Protestant. Furthermore, the restitution would plant a series of Catholic centres of aggression and political intrigue in the heart of the now solidly 452 The Reformation. Protestant sections of northern Germany. The restitution might be justifiable by the strict letter of the ancient Peace, but it was a flagrant aggression judged by the actual conditions then existent in Germany. Even the neutral Lutheran states of northern Germany could now see their peril. The very magnitude of Ferdinand's success was, however, a powerful incentive to foreign resistance and domestic disagreement, since there seemed to be no limits to his ambition to extend the Habsburg might. In 1629, he designed to aid the Spaniards in the Netherlands ; he sent troops to the assistance of the king of Poland in a war between that mon arch and Gustavus Adolphus ; and he aided the Spaniards in Italy to lay claim to Mantua, held by the French duke of Nevers. For 1630, he planned an even more extensive interference in Italian af fairs and talked of sending Wallenstein thither. Venice, and even Pope Urban VIII., called on Richelieu for aid. The Catholic princes of Ger many were becoming alarmed at the growing power of the emperor and incensed over the plundering and pretensions of Wallenstein. The counter-Reforma tion party was beginning to be a house divided against itself. And Richelieu now skilfully fomented these jealousies. In 1629, he invaded Italy, though rather unsuccessfully, with a French force to oppose the Spanish and imperial plans ; he effected a truce between Sweden and Poland by which Gustavus Adolphus was freed to interfere in Germany ; and he intrigued with Maximilian of Bavaria and the other Catholic princes who compelled Ferdinand II. The Thirty Years' War. 453 to dismiss Wallenstein from his generalship in the summer of 1630. It was almost at the moment when jealousy of his pretensions and anger at his exactions had in duced the leaders of the " League " to force the re moval of Wallenstein, that Gustavus Adolphus, with a picked Swedish army, landed on the Pomeranian coast. He had come without alliance even with France, but his troops, though not numerous, were the best drilled and the most orderly, and he him self the ablest commander, in Europe. For six months after his landing in July, 1630, Gustavus labored to secure the Pomeranian coast lands. In January, 1631, Richelieu and Gustavus entered into a treaty by which France promised substantial pe cuniary assistance to the Swedish army. But the strong north-German Protestant states, Branden burg and Saxony, still preserved their almost fatal neutrality, and Gustavus could do little save check mate the movements of the imperial army, under Tilly. He could not prevent the capture of Mag deburg by Tilly's veterans, in May, 1631, and its sack and destruction under circumstances of pecu liar atrocity. Perhaps even under these circum stances, Saxony would have continued its armed neutrality had not Ferdinand now ordered Tilly to compel Johann Georg to disarm or to oppose Gus tavus in the field. This was too much. Tilly at tacked Saxony ; the moment had come for which Gustavus wished. Brandenburg and Saxony were now in alliance with him ; and less than a month later, September 17, 1631, the most important bat- 454 The Reformation. tie of the first half of the seventeenth century was fought at Breitenfeld, close by Leipzig. Though the raw Saxon troops fled, the army of Tilly, hith erto victorious, was beaten by half its numbers be fore the discipline of the Swedes and the skill of their king. The effect of the victory was revolu tionary. All the structure of Catholic restoration which the forces of Wallenstein and Tilly had built up in north Germany fell at once and forever. The Swedish king by a single battle had saved Protes tantism from its worst danger in the lands which had been its original home. And the results of the victory were the greater as Gustavus swept slowly with his army in a long curve to south Germany, marching through the territories lately conquered by the Catholics in the Rhineland, welcomed by the Protestant cities of the South, till in April, 1632, near Donauworth, which he had just freed, he de feated Tilly once more, where the Lech empties into the Danube, in a battle which brought to that grim general of the " League " his death-wound. Thence Gustavus pressed on victorious by way of Augsburg to Munich, the Bavarian capital. Meanwhile his Saxon allies had made themselves masters of Bo hemia. Ferdinand II., lately so confident of his mastery, now saw his work threatened with complete ruin. In his distress, he turned again to Wallenstein, who thus came back into power, at the close of 163 1, practically on his own terms. Wallenstein's old sol diers gathered round him. He cared nothing for the Edict of Restitution or for the religious aspects The Thirty Years' War. 455 of the war ; but he wanted to drive out the foreign ers, to have a united Germany in which he should hold practical dictatorship as leading general, and carve out a principality for himself. By May, 1632, he was strong enough to drive the Saxons from Bo- hemia,at the same time that he offered them terms of peace to withdraw them from the Swedish alliance. Thence he turned to meet Gustavus in Bavaria. On September 3, Gustavus tried vainly to storm Wal lenstein' s intrenchments near Nuremberg. Thence Wallenstein marched north to Saxony, determined to force the Saxons to make peace. Thither Gus tavus followed ; and at Liitzen, a few miles from Leipzig, on November 16, 1632, in a terrific battle, defeated Wallenstein only to lose his own life. But he had done a work in his two years in Germany that was enduring. The Edict of Restitution had been made a dead letter as far as north Germany was concerned. Had Gustavus lived longer, the political tendency, always strong in him, might have led him to a mere work of conquest ; and, after all, he was a foreigner on German soil. But, as it was, his memory is deservedly cherished by Ger man Protestantism as that of one of its chief bene factors. After the death of Gustavus, the Swedes con tinued their interference in German affairs under their chancellor, Axel Oxenstjerna. The ablest native German leader on the Protestant side was now Bernhard of Saxe-Weimar. And in April, 1633 he, the Swedes and many Protestant nobles of southwestern Germany and the Rhineland formed 456 The Reformation. a league at Heilbronn. By this league, captured ecclesiastical property when the population was Catholic was disposed of with as little regard to the wishes of the inhabitants as Protestant territories had been by Ferdinand II. ; but its power was small. Meanwhile Wallenstein was pursuing an independ ent policy, aiming to make peace with Saxony on the bases of considerable religious toleration and of German unity against foreign influence, whether Swedish, French or Spanish. He gradually drew upon himself the suspicions of the Spaniards, of Ferdinand II. and of the strict Catholic party. A new attempt to remove him from command resulted in his murder by one of his officers on February 25, 1634. With the death of Wallenstein the great men of the early struggle had passed from the scene, and with one more event the original character of the war may be said to have disappeared. On Septem ber 6, 1634, the imperial army under Ferdinand's son, of the same name, aided by a large Spanish force, defeated Bernhard of Saxe- Weimar and the Swedes at Nordlingen, in a battle that was as decisive in its determination that the south German ecclesiastical lands should remain in Catholic hands as Breiten- feld had been for north German Protestantism. The lines between the two parties had been practically drawn. And this fact is evident in the peace made at Prague in May, 1635, between the emperor and the Saxon elector. Though no toleration was pro posed for Calvinists, the Edict of Restitution was quietly ignored, and the year 1627 made a normal The Thirty Years' War. 457 year by which the religious status of the territories involved in the treaty should be tested. But for Germany itself, as a whole, there was no peace. There was no German power or person strong enough to secure it. And from now to the end of the terrific struggle unhappy Germany was simply the battle-ground of foreign politics ; of Swedes attempting to secure the Baltic lands ; of Spaniards anxious to keep open the artery of com munication between Spain's Italian and Netherland possessions by maintaining Lorraine and the Rhine- lands in their own or in friendly hands — an artery which Dutch and English mastery at sea made doubly precious; of Richelieu striving to maim the Spanish monarchy by piercing this artery and to carry the French boundaries to the Rhine. Spain had the support of the emperor. The Protestants in arms sided with France and Sweden. The lead ers shifted. Ferdinand III. followed his father, in 1637, on the imperial throne ; Richelieu was suc ceeded, in 1642, by Mazarin ; but there was no change of policy. In the long struggle, France gained the most. The foundations of the brilliant military reputation of the France of Louis XIV. were laid. Yet at first it seemed as if Spain and the emperor would have the upper hand. France declared open war in May, 1635, after having long supported the Protestant cause by subsidies. But the French gen erals were inexperienced, and the French attack on the Spanish Netherlands failed. In 1636, France itself was invaded by Spanish troops. But the tide 458 The Reformation. soon turned. In 1638, Bernhard of Saxe- Weimar conquered Alsace ; his death, in July, 1639, put the land almost completely into French possession. The same year the Dutch defeated a Spanish fleet in the Downs. Spain seemed on the verge of col lapse through the damage to its communications between the home-land and its territories in Italy and the Netherlands. In 1643, the roll of French vic tories began with the defeat of the Spaniards at Rocroy by the brilliant great-grandson of the Cond6 of early Huguenot struggles. Turenne manifested his conspicuous abilities as a strategist in 1644, and in 1645, Cond6 defeated the forces of Maximilian of Bavaria at Nordlingen. The same year the Swedish general, Torstenson, overthrew the imperialists at Jankau, to the south of Prague. In 1646, the French under Turenne and the Swedes invaded Bavaria, and the country was devastated, till, in May, 1648, Maximilian was fully ready for peace. Meanwhile the Swedes were in possession of much of Bohemia. Germany was exhausted. In these years, France had wrested the headship of Europe from Spain. The counter-Reformation had been stopped by the political divisions of Ca tholicism. Germany longed for peace. The wretched land had been plundered for a generation by a brutal soldiery. Its trade had been ruined, its villages and towns destroyed, its morals corrupted, its inhabit ants woefully decreased. The lethargy of exhaus tion was upon the land — a lethargy from which it did not recover for a century. In October, 1648, peace came at Jast after long negotiations at Miin- Peace of Westphalia, 459 ster and Osnabruck, in Westphalia. Sweden received a portion of Pomerania and some other territories in north Germany. France was given much of Alsace. Maximilian of Bavaria received part of the Palat inate, and was confirmed in his electoral title. The independence of Switzerland and of the Nether lands, long existent, was now formally admitted. But the chief significance of the Peace of West phalia was the religious provisions, and its clear demonstration that the counter-Reformation, as a whole, had abandoned the great attempt to put an end to Protestantism. Protestants and Catholics were guaranteed equal rights in the empire ; and the Protestants were now recognized as including not merely Lutherans, as in 1555 and 1635, but Calvin ists as well. This status at last obtained by the Calvinists was largely due to the efforts of the new ruler of Brandenburg, Friedrich Wilhelm, the "Great Elector." The possession of ecclesiastical property, which had been so largely the cause of the war, was compromised. The year 1624 was taken as the standard. Whichever religious party enjoyed its use on January 1, of that year, should keep it in perpetuity ; and, while the old principle cujus regio ejus religio was maintained regarding secular territo ries, and the ruler still had the right to drive out those who disagreed with his beliefs, this principle was effectively modified by the provision that here, too, 1624 should be a normal year, and that those actu ally exercising their worship at that time should be allowed to continue its use in the same proportion to other forms that then obtained. A ruler could 460 / he Reformation. no longer arbitrarily change the religion of which his subjects had been adherents in 1624. To the hereditary Austrian lands of the emperor, however, with the partial exception of Silesia, this modifica tion did not apply. The result of the treaties was, therefore, that the Protestants lost Austria and Bo hemia, as well as all claim on the ecclesiastical ter ritories of south Germany and the Rhineland, which had been Catholic at the normal date. The Cath olics won, therefore, permanently the initial suc cesses of the Thirty Years' War. But the Prot estants gained no less securely the disputed north German bishoprics and monasteries. Even more valuable was it that the treaty drew the lines, roughly indeed but approximately, as they actually existed at the close of the war between the Cath olic and Protestant populations of Germany. The pope protested. Neither party was wholly satis fied. But the treaty represented a practical ad justment ; and, with its ratification by France and Sweden, the geography of Catholicism and Prot estantism was established in continental Europe on the general lines of demarkation which it exhibits to day. The fierce struggle had ended in demonstrating that Protestantism could no more be crushed than Roman Catholicism could be Protestantized. On the continent of Europe the year 1648 was, therefore, one of the milestones of historic progress. In England and Scotland, indeed, it had no such significance. There the struggle became one between unlike types of Protestantism and differing conceptions of civil liberty, which was to continue till its issue in Peace of Westphalia. 461 1689, in a limited personal, rather than territorial, toleration under the state churches for the several forms of Protestant church-organization which had battled for more than a century. To Catholics it brought no indulgence, and full Catholic emancipa tion was not to come in England till 1829. Though no dividing line can be rigidly drawn in the progress of human history, the year 1648 may well serve as the terminus of a sketch of the Ref ormation on the continent of Europe. Not that it designated the end of conflict — that end cannot yet be said to have come. Nor even that it saw the conclusion of attempts to repress Protestantism or Catholicism within the several countries of west ern Christendom — the revocation of the Edict of Nantes in 1685, the expulsion of the Protestants from Salzburg in 1731, the various disabilities long imposed on Catholics by England, Denmark or Sweden, are evidence to the contrary. Nor did it mark the end of the internal development of Catholicism and Protestantism. Romanism was to go on into Vaticanism; Protestantism to divide into multitudinous, yet related, schools and sects. But, by the year 1648, the Reformation and counter- Reformation had not only taken on their completed forms, but the lines of possession had been drawn between them and the religious wars had come to an end. Viewed in retrospect, the Reformation age is the most striking period in religious history since the 462 - — ' -—y ' l/C14'H.L//(.i days of the early Church. The threads of all mod ern religious life in western Christendom run back into it. Its range of doctrinal discussion was nar row, the truths about which its controversies raged were few ; but they were no abstract principles. They touched society and the common man in the relationships of every-day life, of personal piety, of government and of social welfare. It was not an age of men of speculative retirement, of contem plative examination and development of an abstruse theology. It was preeminently an epoch of deeds. The figures that tower in its annals, Luther, Zwingli, Calvin, Knox, Ximenes, Caraffa, Loyola, Charles V., William of Orange, Gustavus Adolphus, are those of men of action. And, because of this fact, no age in the history of the Church appeals more to the imagination. The stage it afforded gave ample room for the display of the noblest and the basest passions of which human nature is ca pable. The courage of a Luther, the organizing forcefulness of a Calvin, the intellectual stimulus of a Melanchthon, the devotion of a Xavier, the per sistence of a Philip II., the cruelties of an Alva, the fanaticism of a John of Leyden, the fearlessness of a Knox, exhibit qualities as impressive and individu alities as striking as any age of the world can show. Yet mighty as were the giants of the Reformation age, the principles that they championed were yet mightier. The central impulse of the Reformation was a revival of religion. That hope, in an external and mediaeval form, animated Isabella and Ximenes at the dawn of the Spanish Awakening. That de- A Struggle of Giants. 463 sire, in a new and revolutionary faith that strove to burst the shackles of externalism which the middle ages had imposed and to bring the human soul into direct contact with God, was the starting-point of Luther's work. The Reformation vitalized the religious life of Europe ; but it divided Western Christendom as to the nature of religion itself and of the institutions by which it is propagated. By the Catholic, the highest Christian duty was seen in obedience to the infallible voice of a Church that claims to be the depository of truth, the dispenser of sacraments with which alone all certainty of salva tion is conjoined, the possessor of a true priesthood of divine appointment — a Church characterized by unity expressed in allegiance to a single earthly head. To the Protestant, the profoundest obligations were to use his divinely-given faculties to ascertain for himself what is the truth of God as contained — so the Reformation age would say — in His infallible and absolutely authoritative Word; and to enter through faith into vital, immediate and personal relations with his Saviour. These principles divide Christendom to this hour, and bid fair to do so for centuries to come. And, as Christian men still debate their truth, so they disagree as to what the effect of their application has been upon religion and society. But no wise Protestant will lightly value the birthright of free dom which the Reformation won for him. Nor can he regard a movement which has stimulated in dependence of religious thought, has promoted investigation, has emphasized individual responsi- 464 -* n-e jxejormacion. bility, and has made social, political and intellectual life freer in a thousand ways as other than an un measured blessing. The true Catholic, while deny ing the worth of much that the Protestant calls good and deploring the loss to Roman obedience of a large portion of Christendom, can, nevertheless, rejoice in the moral and spiritual regeneration which the Reformation wrought in the Roman commun ion. To both alike the Reformation brought good ; and western Christendom has reason to rejoice to this day that the transition from the mediaeval to the modern world was accompanied by a profound, searching and transforming revival of religion. INDEX, Acquaviva, Claudio, 382. Adrian VI., pope, 69, 70, 128, 358. Agricola, Johann, 106, 183, 218. Agricola, Rudolph, 29, 31. Agricola, Stephan, 173. Ailli, Pierre d', 35, 168. Albrecht, archbishop of Mainz, 93, 94- Albrecht, bishop of Strassburg,72. Albrecht V. of Bavaria, 401,440. Albrecht of Brandenburg-Culm- bach, 212. Albrecht of Prussia, 285, 286. Alcala university founded, 62. Alciati, Andrea, 237. Alcock, John, bishop of Ely, 68. Aleander, Girolamo, 72, 114-121, 360. Alexander IV., pope, 83. Alexander VI., pope, 8, 16, 17, 6i, 358. Alexander of Parma, 429, 435- 437- Allen, William, cardinal, 433, 434. Alva, Federico of, 427. Alva, Fernando, duke of, 406, 407, 414, 422, 423, 427, 428, 462. Alziati, Gianpaolo, 301. Amboise, conspiracy of, 412. Amsdorf, Nikolaus von, 106, 123, 125 ; doctrinal controversies, 208, 218, 219. Anabaptists, the, origin and his tory, 50, 159-163, 335-346 ; be liefs, 339, 34°; the Munster tragedy, 342-344 ! see also 182, 183, 187. Andersen, Lars, 280, 281. Andraea, Jakob, 222. Anselm of Canterbury, 5,45, 50, 85- Anshelm, Thomas, 103. Antoine of Vendome (Bourbon), 410, 412, 413, 424. Aquinas, Thomas, theology of, 25, 26, 63, 362-364 ; on indul gences, 92 ; on transubstantia- tion, 168 ; mentioned, 50, 96, H3, 243- Araoz, a Jesuit, 379. Aresen, bishop, 285. Argyll, earl of, 322, 323. Armada, the Great, 425, 433-435. Arran, see Hamilton. Articles of religion, English, 310. Articles, Schmalkaldic, 194, 195. Articles, Schwabach, 181, 183. Augsburg Confession, see Con fession. Augsburg Interim, see Interim. Augsburg, Peace of, see Peace. August, elector of Saxony, 218, 221, 222. Augustinian Order, the, 83, 84. Augustine, Saint, 83-85, 90, 166, 3°3- Balboa, Vasco de, 33. Barnabites, the, 365, 366. Bassi, Matteo, 366. Beaton, David, cardinal, 316, 317, 319, 320. Beaton, James, archbishop, 315, 316. Beda, Noel, 239. Bernhard, Saint, 5, 45, 50, 85, 336- Bernhard of Saxe- Weimar, 455, 456, 458. 465 466 Index. Berquin, Louis de, 229, 230, 239, 373- Berthelier, Philibert, the elder, 233, 262. Berthelier, Philibert, the younger, 262. Berthold, archbishop of Mainz, 72. Bessarion, cardinal, 28. Bethlen Gabor, 448, 450. Beuckelssen, Jan, see John of Leyden. Beza, Theodore de, 238, 240, 275, 276, 412. Biandrata, Giorgio, 287, 290, 300, 301. Biel, Gabriel, 80, 90. Bishops, attitude of continental reformers toward, 139. Bismarck, Otto von, 210. Biandrata, see Biandrata. Blaurock, Georg, 160, 161, 338, 339- Bobadilla, Nicolo, 374, 380. Boccaccio, Giovanni, 28. Bohemia, Reformation in, 288, 289, 443-445- Boleyn, Anne, 324. Bolsec, Jerome Hermes, 265, 266. Boniface VIII., pope, 7, 11, 24. Boniface IX., pope, 8. Bonivard, Francois, 233. Bora, Katharina von, Luther's wife, 133. Borgia, Duke Francisco, 380, 381, 386. Bothwell, James Hepburn, earl of, 332, 333. Brant, Sebastian, 72. Bray, Guy de, 271, 307. Brederode, Henry of, 421. Breitenfeld, battle of, 454. Brenz, Johann, 173, 197. Briconnet, Guillaume, bishop, 227, 228, 230. Briessmann, Johann, 285. Brouet, Pascal, 374, 379. Bruccioli, Antonio, 296. Bucer, Martin, life, 165, 166 ; sac ramental dispute, 170, 172 ; irenic efforts, 175, 186 ; the Confessio Tetrapolitana, 186 ; disputations at Worms, Re gensburg and Berne, 197, 198, 231 ; Philip of Hesse's big amy, 200, 201 ; acquaintance with Calvin, 255. Bude, Guillaume, 30. Biinzli, Gregovius, 149. Bugenhagen, Johann, 123, 284. Bullinger, Heinrich, 159, 180, 272, 273. Bure, Idelette de, Calvin's wife, 255- Cajetan, cardinal, 99, 114, 364. Calvin, Antoine, 251. Calvin, John, early life, 235-238 ; conversion, 238-240 ; the Cop oration, 240 ; a wanderer, 241, 242 ; the Institutes, 241-244, 254, 403 ; principal theologic teachings, 244-251, 302, 363 ; early labors at Geneva, 251- 254 ; at Strassburg, 254-256 ; letterto Sadoleto, 254, 256, 294 ; debates at Worms and Regens burg, 197, 255 ; acquaintance with Bucer, Melanchthon and Knox, 255, 322, 323 ; mar riage, 255 ; liturgy, 255, 256 ; return to Geneva, 256, 257 ; catechism, 257 ; church-gov ernment, 257-259 ; severity, 259, 260, 269, 270 ; leadership in education and industry, 260, 261 ; interest in missions, 388 ; opponents, 261-269 ; Castellio, 264, 265 ; Bolsec, 265 ; Ser vetus, 266-269 ; Westphal, 221 ; the anti-Trinitarians, 300, 301 ; the Spirituels, 352 ; influence outside Geneva, 270-273, 311, 312 ; activity, 273, 274 ; death, 274, 404 ; mentioned, 180, 373, 462. Calvin, Marie, 251. Campegi, Lorenzo, cardinal, 128, 129, 132, 186, 357. Index. 467 Canisius, see Kanis. Cano, Melchior, theologian, 63, 364, 373, 394- Capito, Wolfgang, reformer, 164, 165, 170, 255. Cappel, battle of, 179 ; peace of, 178. Capuchins, the, 366. Caraccioli, Galeazzo, 299. Caraffa, Giovanni Pietro (Paul IV.), indebtedness to Spanish Awakening, 70 ; reformatory work in Italy, 294, 297, 361 ; the Inquisition, 199 ; cardinal, 359; papacyof, 361, 362, 406, 407; opposes Loyola, 374; men tioned, 357, 360, 403, 419, 462. Carillo, Alfonso, 60. Carlstadt, Andreas Bodenstein of, letter of Luther to, 100 ; at Leipzig disputation, 105, 106, 109 ; changes at Wittenberg, 123-126 ; marries, 126 ; breaks with Luther, 126, 130, 140 ; view of the Supper, 1 70 ; preaching in Denmark, 282. Carlos, prince of Spain, 331 Carnesecchi, Pietro, 294. Caroli, Pierre, 253. Casas, Bartolome de las, 389. Castellio, Sebastien, 264, 265, 269. Cateau-Cambresis, treaty of, see Treaty. Catechism, Calvin's, 257. Catechism, Heidelberg, 273, 439. Catechism, Luther's, 143. Catechism, Racovian, 287. Cathari, the, 47, 64. Catherine of Aragon, queen of England, 309. Catherine de' Medici, queen of France, 323, 411, 412-426, 431. Cauvin (Calvin), Gerard, 235-237. Cazalla, Agostino, 292. Chandieu, Antoine, 271. Chantal, Jeanne de, 3°7- Charlemagne, emperor, 5, 109. Charles V., emperor, parentage, inheritance and possessions, 15, 22 ; indebtedness to Ximenes, 61 ; Reuchlin controversy, 76 ; elected emperor, 104, 109 ; re ligious views, 68, 69, 109 ; at Reichstag of Worms, 116-120 ; repelled by Luther, 120 ; hands tied, 16, 121, 127 ; victory at Pavia, 134; successes of 1529, 144 ; the Reichstag at Augs burg, 182-187 ; addressed by Zwingli, 176 ; unable to crush Protestants, 189-191 ; truce of Nuremberg, 191 ; efforts for a general council, 193, 392, 393 ; league of Nuremberg and Frankfort suspension, 195, 196 ; union efforts, 196-198, 255, 295 ; uses Philip of Hesse's bigamy, 201, 202 ; plans to crush Protestantism, 202-204 i defeats Protestants, 205, 206, 451; the Interims, 207,208; policy in the Netherlands, 304- 307 ; himself defeated, 209- 212 ; retirement and death, 212— 214, 405, 406 ; character, 214, 226; mentioned, 358, 359, 361, 391, 401, 403, 407, 416-418, 420, 428, 462. Charles I. of England, 449. Charles VIII. of France, 11, 16, 225. Charles IX. of France, 407, 412, 423, 424, 426. Charles the Bold, 21. Charles, Cardinal Bourbon, 430, 436. Charles Emmanuel of Savoy, 444. Chemnitz, Martin, 222. Christian of Anhalt, 443-445. Christian of Brunswick, 446. Christian II. of Denmark, 278, 279, 282-285. Christian III. of Denmark, 284, 285. Christian IV. of Denmark, 447, 449-451. Christian I., elector of Saxony, 222. 468 Index. Christian II., elector of Saxony, 222. Christine, wife of Philip of Hesse, 199. Chrysoloras, Manuel, 28. Cisnero, Garcia, 372. Clemanges, Nicholas of, 9, 35. Clement V., pope, 11. Clement VI., pope, 8, 38. Clement VII., pope, character and work, 358, 359 ; indirectly aids Protestantism, 16, 134- 136 ; political policy, 306, 405 ; death, 193 ; mentioned, 128, 182, 280, 294, 309, 411. Cochlaeus, Johann, 197. Codure, Jean, 374. Coligny, Gaspard de, 410, 415, 416, 423-425- Colet, John, 29, 31, 308. Columbus, Christopher, 33, 51. Concord, Formula of, 222. Concord, Wittenberg, 192, 193. Conde, Henry, prince of, 425, 431- Conde, Louis I., prince of, 410- 413, 415- Conde, Louis II., prince of, 458. Confessio Tetrapolitana, 186. Confession, Augsburg, occasion and presentation, 182-184 I ne gotiations and defence, 186- 188 ; a creed-test, 188, 191, 193, 198, 214, 395 ; the altered edi tion, 218 ; Formula of Concord issued on fiftieth anniversary, 222. Confession, Belgic, 271, 307. Confession, French, 271. Confession, Scottish, 271, 327. Conrad of Waldhausen, 42. Contarini, Gasparo, cardinal, ca reer, 294, 295, 359 ; at Regens burg debate, 198, 297 ; favors Loyola, 374 ; mentioned, 357, 360. Cop, Nicholas, 240, 373. Copernicus, 51. Coppin, a Spirituel, 351. Corault, Elie, 252. Cordatus, Conrad, 218. Cordier, Mathurin, 236. Cortez, Hernando, 34. Cotta, Frau Ursula, 80. Council of Aranda, 57. 1 Council of Basel, 28/35, 54, 97 Council of Constance, 28/ 35^ 36^168^'condemns Huss, 4311 44y54 r/triticised by Luther, 107, 10s, 118. Council of Ferrara and Florence, 28<395-/ j Council of Pisa, 35. Council of^Trgnt, sessions and work, 392-401 ; see also 198, 203, 207, 209, 360, 403. Cranmer, Thomas, archbishop, 298, 299, 309, 311. Crawar, Paul, 315. Crotus Rubianus, 76, 108, 133. Cruciger, Kaspar, 173, 197. Crypto-Calvinism, 220-222. Dalberg, Johann, bishop, 72. Danes, Pierre, 238. Dante, 28. Darnley, Henry Stuart, Lord, 331, 332. Denk, Hans, 338. Denmark, Reformation of, 282- 284. Desnoz, Claudine, Beza's wife, 275. Devay, Matthias Bird, 289, 290. Deza, Diego de, 65. Diane de Poitiers, 411. Diaz, Bartholomew, 33. Dominic, Saint, 46, 370. Doumergue, Prof. E., 239. Drake, Sir Francis, 432. Eck, Johann Maier of, opposes Luther, 96 ; Leipzig disputa tion, 105-109 ; obtains papal bull, 114, 115 ; influence at Ingolstadt, 103 ; acquainted with Hubmaier, 160 ; at Augs burg, 183-187 ; in debate at Index. 469 Baden, Worms and Regens burg, 163, 197, 198; mentioned, 133. Edict of Nantes, 437, 438, 461. Edict of Restitution, 451, 454- 456- Edict of Worms, 120, 121, 127, 128, 134, 14-,, 405. Edward I. of England, 12. Edward III. of England, 12. Edward VI. of England, 211, 310, 317, 320. Egmont, Lamoral, count of, 407, 420, 422. Einarsen, Gisser, bishop, 285. Elizabeth of England, policy, 312, 313, 432-434 ; relations to Scottish Reformation, 324, 326, 332, 333, 369 i the Jesuits, 386 ; the Armada, 434, 435 ; men tioned, 248, 403, 405, 408. England, Reformation in, 308- 313- Enzinas, Francisco, 292. Epistolse Obscurorum Virorum, 76. Erasmus Desiderius, services to learning, 30, 31, 51 ; theory of reform, 53 ; opinion of bull against Luther, 115 ; jest about the Reformation, 134 ; dis agreements with Luther, 132, 217, 245 ; at Basel, 147 ; ac quaintance with CEcolampa dius, 164 ; mentioned, 305, 308. Erch, Jan, 306. Erich of Brunswick, 195. Ernst of Brunswick-LUneburg, 145, 185. Ernst of Mansfeld, 444, 446, 448, 45o. Erskine, John, 322, 323. Escobar, Antonio, 384. Este, Ercole, duke of, 296. Estoile, Pierre del', 237. Eugene IV., pope, 395. Faber, Johann, 156. Faber Stapulensis, see Le Fevre. Familists, see Love. Farel, Guillaume, early reform atory work, 230, 231 ; labors in Geneva, 234, 235, 251-254; relations to Calvin, 234, 251, 257 ; death of Servetus, 269. Favre, Pierre, 373, 375, 379, 380. Ferdinand I., emperor, Regens burg meeting, 129 ; rules Wiir temberg, 192 ; Nuremberg league, 195 ; influenced by Philip of Hesse's bigamy, 201 ; supports Swiss Catholics, 177 ; Bohemians refuse to aid, 288 ; negotiates treaty of Passau, 212 ; imperial reign begins, 213, 406 ; declaration at Augs burg, 215; the cup for the laity, 394 ; religious policy, 440. Ferdinand II., emperor, 443-457. Ferdinand III., emperor, 456, 457- Ferdinand of Aragon, king of Spain, Spain under, 14, 15 ; reformatory work, 58-68 ; men tioned, 22, 357, 368, 369. Ficino, Marsilio, 28. Flacius, Matthias (Illyricus), 208, 218-220. Forge, Etienne dela, 239. Formula of Concord, see Concord. Francis of Assisi, Saint, 15, 46, 37°- Francis I. of France, France un der, 11, 12 ; character and aims, 226 ; rivalry with Charles V., 109, 116 ; defeat at Pavia, 134 ; aided byClementVII., 16, 135 ; treaty of 1529, 144 ; addressed by Zwingli, 176 ; Charles V. secures his neutrality, 203 ; aids Le Fevre, 228 ; relations to Berquin, 230 ; humanistic sym pathies, 238 ; attitude toward French Protestants, 242 ; Cal vin's letter, 243 ; mentioned, 369, 405, 409. Francis II. of France, 313, 326, 329, 407-409, 412. 47o Index. Franck, Sebastian, 346-348, 350, 354- Francois of Anjou (Alencon), 427, 430. Frankfort Suspension, 196. Franz of Brunswick-Liineburg, 185. Franz of Sickingen, 19. Fraticelli, the, 47. Frederick Barbarossa, emperor, 19. Frederick I. of Denmark, 283, 284. Frederick the Great of Prussia, 210. Fregoso, Federigo, 296, 359. Friedrich, bishop of Augsburg, 72. Friedrich III., elector of the Pa latinate, favors Calvinism, 272, 273. 439- Friedrich IV., elector of the Pa latinate, 442. Friedrich V. , elector of the Pala tinate, in Thirty Years' War, 444-446, 449. Friedrich the Wise, elector of Saxony, founds university of Wittenburg, 88 ; favor to Lu ther and Melanchthon, 91, 98- 100, 103 ; Leo X. strives to in fluence, 104, 105 ; disregards bull against Luther, 115 ; de fends him after Reichstag of Worms, 120-123 ; death, 135. Friedrich II. of Silesia, 348. Friedrich Wilhelm of Branden burg, 459. Froment, Antoine, 231, 232, 234. Fuente, Ponce de la, 292. Fugger, banker of Augsburg, 51. Gama, Vasco da, 33. Geiler (of Kaisersberg), Johann, preacher at Strassburg, 72. Gentile, Giovanni, 300. Georg of Brandenburg (Ans- pach), 145, 185. Georg, duke of Saxony, 106, 196, 197, 199- Gerson, Jean Charlier, 35, 80. Gil, Juan, 292. Giotto, 29. Glencairn, the earl of, 322, 323. Goschel, bishcp, an Anabaptist, 338. G8tz von Berlichingen, 19. Granvella, Antoine Perrenot of, cardinal, in Netherlands, 418, 420. Granvella, Nicolas Perrenot of, imperial counsellor, 197. Grebel, Conrad, Anabaptist, 160, 161, 338. Gregory I., pope, 5. Gregory XV., pope, 391. Gribaldi, Matteo, 300. Gropper, Johann, 197, 198. Grotius, Hugo, 304. Gruet, Jacques, 263, 264. Guise, Charles of, duke of Ma yenne, 431, 436, 437. Guise, Claude, duke of, 409. Guise, Francois, duke of, 406- 4T4- Guise, Henry, duke of, 414, 424, 426, 427, 430, 431. Gustavus Adolphus of Sweden, services to German Protestant ism, 447-455, 462. Gustavus Vasa, see Vasa. Hagenau, conference at, 197. Haller, Berthold, 163. Hamilton, James, earl of Arran, 3TO, 317, 321, 322. Hamilton, John, archbishop, 321. Hamilton, Patrick, 315, 316. Hedio, Kaspar, 165, 172, 175, 255- Heidelberg Catechism, see Cate chism. Heinrich of Brunswick, 195. Heinrich, duke of Saxony, 196, 204. Held, Matthias, imperial chan cellor, 195. Henri d'Albret, king of Navarre, 227. Henry III., emperor, 19. Index. 47i Henry IV. of England, 12. Henry VII. of England, 13. Henry VIII. of England, early reformatory efforts, 68, 69 ; aids Charles V. against France, 202 ; _ breach with Rome and Anglican Reformation, 308- 3H, 313, 316,323; mentioned, 13, 248. Henry II. of France, aids Ger man Protestants, 211, 212 ; pol icy and reign, 406-409, 411; mentioned, 380. Henry III. of France, reign and character, 407, 426, 427, 430- 432, 436- Henry IV. of France, Huguenot struggles, 424-427, 430-432 ; reign, 436-438 ; the Edict of Nantes, 437 ; mentioned, 442, 447- Henry, " the Navigator,'' prince of Portugal, 33. Hildebrand, Pope Gregory VII., 4, 5, 7, 24. Hoen, Cornelis, 169. Hofmann, Melchior, Anabaptist, 341-343, 350. Honter, Johann, reformer, 289. Hoogstraten, Jacob van, Reuchlin controversy, 74—76, 97. Hooper, John, bishop, 311. Horn, Philip, count of, 420, 422. Hubmaier, Balthasar, Anabap tist, 160, 338, 339, 354. Hugues, Besancon, 233. Hungary, Reformation in, 289, 290. Huss, John, Bohemian reformer, 37, 4°, 43, 44, 54, 288 ; ap proved by Luther, 107, 108, no, 118 ; on the church, 246. Hut, Hans, Anabaptist, 338. Huter, Jacob, Anabaptist, 338, 339. Hutten, Ulrich von, 73, 76, 108, no. Iceland, Reformation in, 285. Individualism, influence in pre paring way for Reformation, 50-52 ; finds expression in Cal vin, 250. Indulgences, doctrine of, 92-95 ; misused, 8 ; Luther's theses, 95, 96- Innocent III., pope, 5, 18. Innocent IV., pope, 83. Innocent VIII., pope, 8. Inquisition, the Spanish, 64-67 ; the Roman, 198, 297, 361, 379. Interim, the Augsburg, 207, 208 ; the Leipzig, 208, 218. Isabella of Castile, queen of Spain, Spain under, 14 ; re formatory work, 58-68, 117 ; mentioned, 22, 109, 357, 368. Italy, reformatory impulses in, 292-304. James I. of England (VI. of Scotland), 332, 353, 446. James I. of Scotland, 313. James IV. of Scotland, 314. James V. of Scotland, 316. Jay, Claude, 374, 380. Jeanne d'Albret, 410. Jena, University of, founded, 219. Jesuits, the, foundation and work, 368-392 ; mentioned, 282, 290, 364, 433- Joachim II. of Brandenburg, 196, 203. Joanna of Spain, 22. Johann of Brandenburg, 210, 211. Johann, elector of Saxony, forms league of Torgau, 135 ; the Saxon ' ' visitation, " 142 ; pro test at Speier, 145 ; league for defence, 146 ; sends theolo gians to Marburg Colloquy, 173 ; at Augsburg Reichstag, 182-185 ; signs Augsburg Con fession, 185 ; leader of Schmal kaldic league, 189. Johann Albrecht of Mecklen burg, 211. Johann Friedrich of Brunswick.- Liineburg, 185. 472 Index. Johann Friedrich, elector of Sax ony, the " Schmalkaldic Arti cles," 194; quarrel with Duke Moritz, 204 ; defeated and im prisoned by Charles V., 205, 206 ; released, 212. Johann Georg, elector of Saxony, in Thirty Years' War, 443, 445, 453, 456. John XXII., pope, 39. John XXIII., pope, 8. John, bishop of Geneva, 233. John of Austria, in the Nether lands, 428, 429. John of Denmark, 284. John of England, 12. John III. of Portugal, 401. John III. of Sweden, 282. John Sigismund of Transylvania, 290. John of God, 367. John of Leyden, Anabaptist, at Munster, 342-344, 354, 462. John of Ruysbroek, 45. Jonas, Justus, 123, 172, 183. Joris, David, fanatic, 345, 352, 354- Juan de la Cruz, 367. Julius II., pope, addressed, 7 ; character, 8 ; politics of, 16, 1 7 ; Luther visits Rome under, 88 ; mentioned, 62, 93, 358. Julius III., pope, 209, 361. Justification, Luther's doctrine of, 86-88. Kadan, Treaty of, see Treaty. Kaiser, Jakob, burned, 177, 178. Kanis, Peter, work as a Jesuit in Germany, 380, 381. Kempis, Thomas a, 305, 372. Kennedy, James, bishop, 314. Knipperdolling, Bernt, Anabap tist, 342-344- Knox, John, character, 317 ; early life, 318, 319; a Protestant, 319 ; imprisonment, 320 ; Eng lish ministry, 321 ; exile, 322 ; return to Scotland, 322 ; Gene van ministry, 323 ; approval of Genevan discipline, 270 ; final return to Scotland, 324 ; re formatory work, 325-329 ; the Confession, 271, 327 ; church- government, 328, 329 ; struggle with Queen Mary, 329, 330, 334 ; death, 334 ; mentioned, 404, 462. Knox, William, 318. Kunigonda, princess, 74. Lainez, Diego, Jesuit, 373, 375, 379, 381, 382, 386, 394. Lambert, Francois, 138, 139, 175, 316. Lang, A., 239. La Renaudie, Calvinist intriguer, 4H, Lasco, John &., Polish reformer, 287. Latimer, Hugh, English reformer, 311. League of Cambrai, 17. League, the French Catholic, 426, 427, 430-432, 434-437, 442- League, the German Catholic, 442, 445-447, 449, 453, 454- League, the Holy, 17. League of Nuremberg, 195. League of Schmalkalden, 188, 189, 191, 193-195, 201-206. League of Torgau, 135. Lebrija, Antonio de, Spanish humanist, 30, 62, 63. Le Fevre, Jacques, character and work, 227-229 ; services to learning, 30, 31 ; mentioned, 230, 231, 239, 241, 251, 277. Lefranc, Jeanne, Calvin's mother, 235- Leipzig disputation, the, 106- 108. Leipzig Interim, see Interim. Lennox, the earl of, 334. Leo X., pope, claims, 7 ; politics of, 17 ; indulgences, 93 ; fails to appreciate gravity of Lutheran revolt, 97 ; Luther's attitude toward, 98, 99, 113, 114 ; seeks conciliation, 105 ; bull against Inaex. 473 Luther, 114, 115 ; death, 128 ; mentioned, 293, 358. Leslie, John, 319. L'H&pital, Michel de, 412, 415. Libertines, see Spirituels. Lombard, Peter, theologian, 88. Lorraine, Charles, cardinal of, 409, 414, 415- Louis of Bavaria, emperor, 39. Louis VI. of France, 10. Louis IX. of France, 10. Louis XL of France, n, 22, 225. Louis XII. of France, n, 225. Louis XIII. of France, 447. Louis XIV. of France, 437, 438, 457- Louis of Nassau, in the Nether lands, 421-423, 428. Love, Family of, 352-354. Loyola, Ignatius, character and significance, 67, 368 , 369 ; ear ly life and conversion, 369- 372 ; the Exercitia, 371, 372, 376 ; student days, 237, 372 ; early disciples, 373, 374 ; the Society organized, 374 ; named, 375 ; its characteristics, 376- 392 ; Loyola a preacher, 382 ; the Sacraments, 382, 383 ; po litical genius, 386 ; use of edu cation, 386, 387 ; missions, 388 ; death, 381, 403 ; mentioned, 462. Liitzen, battle of, 455. Luther, Hans, 79, 82, 83. Luther, Margaretha, 79, 82. Luther, Martin, character, 77-79 ; birth and education, 79-83 ; reads whole Bible, 81 ; concern of spirit, 81 ; becomes a monk, 83-85; influenced by Occam, 40 ; by Bernhard, 45 ; by d'Ailli, 168; justification by faith alone, 86-89 ; teacher at Wittenberg and Erfurt, 88-90 ; journey to Rome, 88, 89 ; grad ual spiritual growth, 90-92 ; the Ninety-five Theses, 94-96 ; op position aroused, 96, 97 ; before Cajetan, 98, 99 ; agreement with Miltitz, 105, 106 ; the Leipzig disputation, 106-108 ; Luther's altered views, 108- 110 ; three great tracts of 1520, 111-114 ; letter to Leo X., 113, 114 ; burns the pope's bull, 115, 116; before the Reichstag of Worms, 116-120; condemned, 120 ; at the Wartburg, 121-126; translates New Testament, 122, 123 ; returns to Wittenberg, 126, 127 ; in the Peasants' War, 130-132 ; his Augustinianism, 132, 363 ; breach with Eras mus, 132, 133, 217, 246 ; mar riage, 133; view of church- government, 137-140 ; changes in worship, 140, 141 ; the Deutsche Messe, 141, 157 ; the Catechisms, 143; Pack's forgery, 144 ; on baptism, 161 ; on the Lord's Supper, 112, 113, 168- 171, 349! contrasted with Zwingli and Zwingli's views, 150, 166-171 ; rejects Zwing lians, 146 ; the Marburg Col loquy, 172-176, 181 ; no sym pathy with Zwingli's political schemes, 177 ; judgment on Zwingli's death, 180 ; influences CEcolampadius and Bucer, 164, 165 ; doctrinal differences be tween him and Calvin, 246, 248, 249 ; the Schwabach Articles, 181, 183 ; at Coburg, 183 ; share in the Augsburg Confes sion, 182, 183, 185 ; wishes Protestants represented in gen eral council, 194 ; drafts the Schmalkaldic Articles, 194 ; Philip of Hesse's bigamy, 200, 201 ; influence on Reformation in Sweden, 279 ; in Denmark, 282, 284 ; in Prussia, 285, 286 ; in Bohemia, 288 ; in Hungary, 289 ; opposed by Henry VIII., 308 ; Hamilton acquainted with, 316 ; his originality, 336 ; 474 Index. table-talk, 274 ; compared with Loyola, 368, 369 ; his relation to the radicals, 335, 337, 355 ; affection for Melanchthon, 101, 218 ; attitude toward Schwenk feld, 349, 350 ; death, 204, 205 ; mentioned, 49, 403, 462. Luther, Paul, 89. Madrid, Treaty of, see Treaty. Magellan, Fernando, 33. Magni, bishop of Westeras, 281. Major, Georg, 219. Major, John, 318. Mantova, Benedetto da, 297. Manuel, Niklaus, 163. Manz, Felix, Anabaptist, 160, 162, 338. Mar, the earl of, 334. Marburg Colloquy, the, 172-176, 181. Marcellus II., pope, 361. Marcourt, Antoine, 242. Marignano (1515), battle of, 151. Marineo, Lucio, 62. Marsilius of Padua, 36-40. Martire, Pietro, of Arona, 62. Martire, Pietro (Vermigli), 298, 299. Martyr, Peter, see Martire. Margaret of Austria, regent of the Netherlands, 306. Margaret of Parma, regent of the Netherlands, 418, 421. Marguerite d'Angouleme, char acter, 227 ; aids Le Fevre, 228, 229 ; friendship for reformers, 229, 231, 241, 251 ; relation to Spirituels, 351, 352; men tioned, 410. Marguerite of Valois, 424. Maria, regent of the Netherlands, 306. Mary of Burgundy, 21, 22. Mary I. of England, 213, 295, 298, 299, 310, 311, 321, 323, 324- Mary II. of England, 327. Mary of Scotland, betrothal, 313, 317, 320, 321 ; marriage to Francis II., 324 ; to Darnley, 332 ; to Bothwell, 332 ; return to Scotland, 329, 330 ; conver sation with Knox, 330 ; abdica tion, 333 ; contest with Eliza beth, 408, 433, 434 ; death, 333, 434 ; mentioned, 409, 439. Mary of Guise, regent of Scot land, 321, 323-326. Mathys, Jan, Anabaptist, 342, 343- Matthias, emperor, 443. Matthias of Janow, 42. Maximilian I., emperor, politics of, 17 ; marriage, 21, 22 ; rev enue compared with that of pope, 23 ; Reuchlin contro versy, 74, 76 ; death, 104. Maximilian II., emperor, 288, 440. Maximilian of Bavaria, in Thirty Years' War, 442, 443, 445, 446, 452, 458, 459. Mazarin, cardinal, 457. Menno Simons, see Simons. Mennonites, the, 346. Melanchthon, Philip, character, 100-102 ; early life, 102-104 ; inauguration at Wittenberg, 100, 101 ; success as a teacher, 103 ; at Leipzig disputation, 106 ; consequent development, no; the Loci Communes, 123, 124 ; favors bishops, 139 ; the Saxon visitation, 142 ; the Marburg Colloquy, 172-176 ; the Augsburg Confession and Apology, 182-188 ; invited to Paris, 242; appendix to Schmal kaldic Articles, 194, 195 ; in debate at Worms and Regens burg, 197, 198 ; Philip of Hesse's bigamy, 200, 201 ; the Leipzig Interim, 208 ; criti cism of Luther, 208 ; doctrinal peculiarities, 216-218; attacked, 218-221; friendship for Calvin, 255 ; for Ursinus, 273 ; for Hamilton, 316 ; on Servetus, Index. 475 269 ; on Schwenkfeld, 350 ; death, 221, 403 ; mentioned, 29, 244-246, 462. Melville, Andrew, 327, 328. Mendoza, Pedro de, 59, 60. Mercurian, Everard, 381. Merici, Angela, 366. Meyer, Sebastian, 163. Michael Angelo, 29, 51. Milicz of Kremsier, 42. Miltitz, Karl von, 105, 113. Missions to the heathen, 388- 392- Mohacs, battle of, 190, 289. Montmor, family of Calvin's friends, 236. Montmorency, Anne de, 413. More, Sir Thomas, 29, 31, 308. Moritz, duke and elector of Sax ony, character, plans and work, 203-212 ; favors Melanchthon, 218 ; mentioned, 393. Morone, Giovanni de, 197, 296. Mortmain, statute of, 12. Morton, James Douglas, earl of, 334- Miihlberg, battle of, 206. Munster, Anabaptist tragedy at, 342-344- Miinzer, Thomas, fanatic, 125, 126, 130, 131, 340, 354- Murray, earl of, see James Stuart. Myconius, Friedrich, 173. Mylne, Walter, 324. Neri, Filippo de, 366. Netherlands, Reformation in the, 304-307, 416-423, 427-430. Nicholas I., pope, 5. Niclaes, Henrick, fanatic, 352- 354- , , , Nordlingen, battle of, 456. Norway, Reformation in, 284, 285. Nuremberg, Truce of, see Truce. Occam, William of, theologian, 26, 39, 40, 80, 90, 302. CEcolampadius, Johann, labors at Basel, 164 ; in sacramental dis pute, '170, 171; at Marburg Colloquy, 172-174; influence on Melanchthon, 217 ; wel comes Farel, 230 ; disputation at Berne, 231. Oldcastle, Sir John, Lollard, 42. Olevianus, Caspar, 273. Olivetan, Pierre Robert, transla tion of the Bible, 228, 239, 242. Oratorio, the, 366. Oratory, Congregation of the, 366. Oratory of Divine Love, the, 293, 294, 357- Osiander, Andreas, doctrinal con troversies, 173, 220. Oxenstjerna, Axel, 455. Pavia, battle of, 134. Pack, Otto von, forgery, 143, 144. Paleario, Aonio, 297. Pascal, Blaise, 384. Passau, Treaty of, see Treaty. Paul III., pope, character and work, 359-361 ; calls a general council, 193, 198, 203 ; ad journs council from Trent to Bologna, 207 ; the Council of Trent, 198, 392, 393 ; the Re gensburg debate, 198 ; reor ganizes the Inquisition, 198 ; relations to the Jesuits, 374- 376 ; mentioned, 209, 295. Paul IV., pope, see Caraffa. Peace of Augsburg, provisions, 214-216, 223 ; how interpreted, 439, 440, 451. Peace of Westphalia, 458, 459. Peasants' War, the, 129-132. Peasantry, condition in Germany, 20. Pedro of Alcantara, 367. Perez, Juan, 292. Perkheimer, Wilibald, 132. Perrin, Ami, 262. Perugino, 29. Petersen, Lars, 280, 281. Petersen, Olaf, 279-281. Petrarch, Francesco, 28. Peucer, Kaspar, 221. Pfefferkorn, Johann, 73-75. Pflug, Julius, 198. Philip of Austria, marriage, 22. 476 Index. Philip I. of France, 12. Philip Augustus of France, 10. Philip IV. of France, 11, 24. Philip of Hesse, forms League of Torgau, 135 ; the Homberg convention, 138 ; deceived by Pack, 143, 144 ; protests at Speier, 145 ; league for Prot estant defence, 146, 172, 173 ; inclines to Zwinglian views, 172, 176, 186 ; holds the Mar burg Colloquy, 172-176 ; po litical hopes, 176, 177 ; signs the Augsburg Confession, 185, 186 ; leader of Schmalkaldic League, 189 ; restores Ulrich to Wiirtemberg, 192 ; bigamy, 199-202 ; use made of it by Charles V., 201, 203 ; defeated and imprisoned, 205, 206, 210 ; released, 212. » Philip II. of Spain, Charles V. desires imperial succession for, 209, 213 ; accession and mar riage, 213; value to the Roman cause, 401, 402 ; policy and reign, 406-408, 414,415 ; strug gle for control of the Nether lands, 307, 416-423, 427-430 ; the Armada, 432-435 ; attitude toward the Jesuits, 391 ; last days, 435-438 ; mentioned, 462. Pisano, Niccolo, 29. Pistorius, Johann, 197. Pius IV., pope, 419. Pius V., pope, 304, 433. Plato, revived interest in, 28. Platon, Gemistos, 28. Pocquet, Antoine, fanatic, 351, 352. Poland, Reformation in, 286, 287. Pole, Reginald, archbishop and cardinal, 295, 296, 359, 360. Polentz, Georg von, bishop, 286. Polyglot, Complutensian, 31, 62, 63- Praemunire, statute of, 12. Prierias, Silvestro, 97-99, 114. Proles, Andreas, 84. Protestant, origin of name, 145. Provisors, statute of, 12. Prussia, Reformation in, 285, 286. Puritans, the, 312, 313. Queiss, Erhard von, bishop, 286. Quintin, a Spirituel, 351, 352. Raphael (Sanzio), 29, 51. Ravaillac, Francois, 438. Regensburg convention, 129. Regensburg, discussions at, 197, 198. Reichstag, the German, ig. Reichstag, at Augsburg (1530), 182-188 ; ibid. (1548), 207 ; ibid. (1555), 212, 214-216 ; at Nuremberg, 128 ; at Speier (1526), 136, 138, 140, 142- 144 ; ibid. (1529), 144-146 ; ibid. (1542 and 1544), 202 ; at Worms, 1 16-120. Reinhard, Martin, 282. Reinhart, Anna, 154. Renascence, influence of the, 27- 30. Renee of Ferrara, 251, 296. Rense, declaration at, 18. Requesens, Luis de, in the Neth erlands, 428. Resby, James, 315. Reublin, Wilhelm, 160. Reuchlin, Johann, services to learning, 29, 31 ; reformatory attitude, 72 ; his great contro versy, 73-76, 97 ; relations to Melanchthon, 102, 103 ; men tioned, 364. Ricci, Matteo, missionary, 390. Richard II. of England, 12, 42. Richelieu, Cardinal, 442, 447, 452, 453, 457- Ridley, Nicholas, bishop, 311. Rizzio, David, 332. Rodriguez, Simon, 374, 380. Rogers, John, 311. Rojas, Domingo de, 292. Rome, the sack of, 18, 135, 136. Roses, the wars of the, 13. Rothmann, Bernt, Anabaptist, 342-344. Index. 477 Rudolph II., emperor, 289, 440, 442-444- Saal, Margaretha von der, 200. Sadoleto, Jacopo, 254, 256, 294, 359- Ste. Aldegonde, Philip of, 421. St. Andre, Marshal, 413. St. Bartholomew, massacre of, 423-425. Sales, Francois de, 367. Salmeron, Alonso, 374, 382, 394. San Romano, Francisco, 292. Scholasticism, decline of, 25-27. Schwabach Articles, see Articles. Schwartzerd, Barbara, 102. Schwartzerd, Georg, 102. Schwenkfeld, Kaspar, 348-351, 354- Scotland, Reformation in, 313-334. Scotus, Duns, 302, 303. Scriptures, Wiclif's translation, 42 ; pre-Reformation editions, 46, 57 ; Luther's translation, 122, 123. Sigismund, August, of Poland, 286. Selnecker; Nikolaus, 222. Servetus, Miguel, 266-269, 3°°- Simons, Menno, 344-346, 354. Sixtus IV., pope, 58, 59, 64, 65. Sixtus V., pope, 431, 434. Socinianism, see Unitarianism. Socinus, see Sozzini. Somerset, Edward Seymour, duke of, 320, 321. Soto, Domingo de, theologian, 63, 364, 394- Sozzini, Fausto, 287, 301-304. Sozzini, Lelio, 298, 301. Spain, evangelical influences in, 291, 292. Speratus, Paul, 286. Spirituels, the, in general, 351, 352 ; at Geneva, 263, 268. Staupitz, Johann von, 84-86, 88. Storch, Nikolaus, 125, 126. Stuart, James, earl of Murray, 333, 332, 333- Stubner, Marx Thoma, 125, 126, 130. Suleiman II. of Turkey, igo, 191, 202. Supper, the Lord's, controversy between Luther and Zwingli regarding, 167-176 ; Melanch thon's view on, 217 ; Calvin's view on, 220, 221, 246. Sweden, Reformation in, 278-282. Talavera, Fernando de, 59. Tauler, Johann, 45, 87. Tausen, Hans, Danish reforma tion, 283. Tetzel, Johann, 94-97, 105. Theatines, the, 294, 357, 360, 365, 374- Theresa de Jesus, 367. Thiene, Gaetano di, 294. Tillet, Louis du, friendship for Calvin, 241, 242. Tilly, Baron, 445, 446, 450-454. Torquemada, Tomas, 65. Torstenson, Lennart, 458. Transylvania, Reformation in, 28g, 2go. Treaty of Cateau-Cambresis, 407, 410, 418,419. Treaty of Kadan, 192. Treaty of Madrid, 134. Treaty of Passau, 212, 215. Trent, Council of, see Council. Trie, Guillaume, 267, 268. Triumphus, Augustinus, 7. Truce of Nuremberg, 191, 198. Truchsess, Gebhard, archbishop, 441. Turenne, 458. Ulrich of Wiirtemberg, 192. Union efforts between Catholics and Protestants, 196-198, 295. Unitarianism, 287, 290, 300-304, 354- Urban II., pope, 7, 24. Urban VIII., pope, 452. Ursinus, Zacharias, 273. Ursulines, the, 366. Valdes, Alfonso de, 291. 478 Index. Valdes, Juan de, 291, 292, 296- 2gg. Valero, Rodrigo de, 292. Vandel, Pierre, 262. Vasa, Gustavus, of Sweden, 279- 282. Vasquez, Gabriel, 384. Vatable, Francois, 238, 239. Vergerio, Pietro Paolo, 299. Vinci, Leonardo da, 29. Viret, Pierre, 231, 232, 234, 266, 275- Visitation, Nuns of the, 367. Vittoria, Francisco de, theolo gian, 63, 364. Voes, Hendrik, 306. Waldenses, the, 47-50. Waldo of Lyons, 47. Wallenstein , Albrecht of, 448-456. Wesel, Johann von, 31, 95. Westphal, Joachim, 220, 272. Westphalia, Peace of, see Peace. Wiclif, John, doctrines and in fluence, 12, 40-43, 54 ; on the church, 246. Wilhelm IV. of Bavaria, 381. Wilhelm of Hesse, 211. William the Conqueror, 4. William III. of England and Scotland, 327. William of Orange, the Nether lands struggle, 420-423, 427- 430 ; tolerates Anabaptists, 346 ; mentioned, 434, 462. Williams, Roger, 339. Wimpina, Conrad, 96. Wimpheling, Jakob, 72. Wishart, George, 317, 319. Wittenberg Concord, see Concord. Wittenberg, University of, founded, 88. Wolflin, Heinrich, 149. Wolfgang of Anhalt, 145, 185. Wolmar, Melchior, 237, 239, 275. Wolsey, Thomas, cardinal, 69, 308. Worms, Edict of, see Edict. Worms, Reichstag of, see Reichs tag. Wyttenbach, Thomas, 149. Xavier, Francisco de, in Jesuit order, 373, 380, 382 ; mission ary labors, 389, 390 ; men tioned, 462. Ximenes, Gonzalez (Francisco), services to learning, 30, 31, 62 ; reformatory work, 59-68, 70, 117 ; opposes sale of indul gences, 93 ; mentioned, 294, 308, 357, 368, 462. Zaccaria, Antonio, 366. Zanchi, Jeronimo, 299. Zdpolya, John, of Hungary and Transylvania, 289, 290. Zwickau prophets, 125-127. Zwingli, Barthomaus, 149. Zwingli, Ulrich, early life, 149- 152 ; spiritual development, 150 ; compared with Luther, 150; relative priority in re form, 152 ; call to Zurich, 152, 153 ; the Archeteles, 153 ; mar riage, 154 ; public debates, 154- 156, 162, 164, 231 ; alterations in worship, 156-158 ; reorgan ization of the Zurich church, r58, 159 ; talents as an organ izer, 159 ; contests with the Anabaptists, 159-163, 335, 337, 355 ; on the salvation of hea then, 161 ; influence on CEco lampadius, 164 ; theologic dif ferences from Luther, 166-171 ; Christ's presence in the Sup per, 168-171, 246, 349; at the Marburg Colloquy, 172-176 ; sends confession to Charles V., 186 ; on the Church, 246 ; on obedience to rulers, 248 ; his Augustinianism, 363 ; political plans, 176-179 ; death, 179, 189 ; mentioned, 49, 403, 462. 3 9002